Building Utopia
by soulguard
Summary: The dead walk the Earth, but the living have begun to fight back. Z is a legendary survivor with a complex past, and he is building something that could change the destiny of humanity. When the scout assigned to follow Z goes missing, a young woman named Ghost is assigned to pick up the reigns and find out what plans Z has for his Utopia. "Z-Nation FFS" Can be found on you tube.
1. Ghost of Paradise

**7 Days to Die: Building Utopia**

"Have you heard of a man they call Z? A master of all things. There was a time when I thought he was just a legend. A dream; something for us to believe in. But you know what's special about him isn't the man… it's what he built. Eventually this world catches you, and it kills you. That is what it means to live now. We all die, one way or another, but what you build from the ruin of the world before is what you will be remembered by. He left behind a great thing. Let me tell you about the great thing that he left behind. Some called it Paradise. Some… those few unfortunate souls who were strong enough to find it."

 ** **Ghost of Paradise****

"God damn dogs!" This world wants us dead. This life is a struggle. Only the strong and the cunning can survive. It's hard enough being a woman alone in the waste, but this world finds a new way to make it even worse; like sending a gang of reanimated dogs after you. I ran. I had to run. My sniper was empty, the dogs saw me before I saw them, and I was low on rations. One dog is a nightmare, but 3 was a pack that I didn't have time nor the gear to deal with.

"Fuck!" I checked over my shoulder, and they were sprinting toward me with speed that I couldn't hope to best. I dropped my sniper, slipped my knife out of the holster, all in stride, and waited for the irritating sound of a hungry dog's growl.. The sounds of its paws wrestling against the grass grew louder, and the growl of its decaying throat was loud enough for me to know that one of them was right at my heels. I spun my head, caught sight of the beast, and drove my knife into the side of its head. Still moving, I kicked back at the second dog, bought myself a half second to pull my knife free of the dead one, and in one motion brought the knife up into the base of the second dog's head.

"Three!" I rolled backwards as the third animal dived over me. My knife was still in the second dog. I kicked at it, and it locked onto my leg viciously. I didn't have time to scream, instead I leaned over and locked my arm around it's neck. My leg was still in its mouth, I was leaning over it, my head to his tail, and my left arm was tightly wrapped around the creature's neck. I never knew I was this flexible, but when your life is on the line…. Two quick twists and the dog's neck snapped. That wouldn't kill it, but it slowed down enough for me to slip my leg free, reach over to grab my knife and drive the blade into the creature's head.

I kicked the corpse off me. Stood up and examined the bite. His teeth had cut through my leathers. I pulled off my boot, examined the wound and wrapped it up as best I could. The infection swarming around the wound would prevent me from healing and I'd bleed to death in field wrap would help slow it down, but only a little. I fought through the pain, stood up and gathered my knife and went back for my sniper. I looked up and saw a slow moving horde of the undead heading my way, lead to me by the dogs no doubt. Hobbling I began the walk to my safe house nearby. I could feel myself getting weaker by the moment, and my boot was now pooling with blood.

Inside my tiny makeshift safe house, I reset the exterior spikes and traps, and climbed upstairs to my health kit and supplies. I took an antibiotic pill from the safe, sat back on my sleeping bag, and pulled my boot off. Thick black blood poured out. I peeled off the old bandage, cleaned the wound and wrapped it in a fresh bit of cloth I had laying around. I leaned over to my secured chest and took out a bit of jerky. Chewed it down and chased it with some water. It would have to do. I was low on supplies and there wouldn't be another restock for four days.

The dead arrived twenty minutes later. I could hear them stumbling into my spikes and traps outside. Hear their flesh tearing and bones cracking. I pulled my sniper close as the fever began to hit me. I reloaded it from my reserve ammo chest and placed a bag of spare rounds at my side. I was going to black out soon. The fever, it always gets you. I just hoped my defenses would hold…

I gasped as I snapped my head up. I had passed out. I pulled up my sniper and scanned the room. I remained still and silent for several minutes after that. No sounds outside, and no sounds inside. I survived. My leg was no longer bleeding profusely, and the fever had passed. I chugged another container of water and groaned at the pain in my head. I was dehydrated, another symptom of the infection, but it would pass. My leg was sore, and hard to walk on, but I had to walk. I crept through the upstairs of my safe house and checked all my kill holes to the outside and downstairs. All the zeds were dead outside, and none got inside, but my traps were nearly obliterated. I would need to get out there and fix them before another horde came walking through.

 _~"Scout? Do you copy?"_

That irritated me. I shuffled over to the radio and picked it up. Command only called when they were in need of me to do something they were to scared to do.

 _~"Scout? You alive?"_

"No. I died. The fuck do you want?" I clipped the radio line open and began to gather supplies to rebuild my defenses outside.

 _~"Thank god. I thought we had lost you. Heard a pretty nasty horde was roaming your prairie lands. Should have known it wouldn't be enough to stop you."_

"They came through, but I didn't get through it unscathed. Fucking dogs. So what do you want?"

 _~"We lost contact with a scout several miles north of you. Hoping you could go after him."_

"You lose a scout every day and don't care… he must have been special to you. Double up my supply drop this week."

 _~"Fair enough."_

"How long has he been missing and who was he trailing?"

 _~"He hasn't checked in in 2 days. He was trailing… Z."_

"Him? He probably killed him?"

 _~"We aren't sure of anything. We only know that we ordered him to take that Island from Z, and it didn't happen."_

"So either he tried, and Z killed him. He joined Z, and broke orders. Or he left us to fend for ourselves."

 _~"Or the infected got him. Your orders are to find that scout and his notes if possible, but ultimately you must find a way into Z's island. I hate sending a woman out there, but… you're our best."_

"Copy. Ghost out." I took off the radio, tossed it back into my backpack and went outside to rearm my traps. The smell was gagging. Entrails were scattered over everything, but it wasn't the worst I'd seen. After an hour of cleaning up the mess and fixing broken spikes and barbed wire, I went back inside and ate a bit more food. Tomorrow I would load up my car and head for the supply rendezvous. I'd eat well this week.

"Z". I thought on his name as a took a swig of tasteless old beer that I had found in a town nearby. I'd heard of the legend. Now it was time to find him.


	2. This World

**This World**

We are the strong. We are the volunteers who awake to a new dawn to face the dead. We are the survivors, the offspring, the living... the cursed. Our world is a world of death and fear. We thrive in it. We who were born after the fires burned the world, were called with one purpose… kill that which was already dead, and build a world that can protect the living. There is no place for fear in this world, but there are plenty who are afraid. There is no place for peace, the dead do not speak.

This is the world of the Blood Moon, the Apocalypse; the end of time. We are the cursed left behind to face the demons of our own creation. This is the world of the dead, monsters, and the hungry nights. Every seven days, this world hungers for us, and we can not hide. You're only hope is to live deep enough underground that the monsters can't get to you, or be strong enough to fight to see another dawn.

We who are born after the fire have one purpose; see another dawn. "My soul still takes breath."

But who are they? They are the masters. They are the ones who keep the best resources for their own safety, deep underground. They are the ones who created the world in which we exist. They are fathers, mothers, commanders, leaders, the ones holding our chains and pointing us at the living dead. They want us to rebuild their world, and kill the ones who can't die. This is what we were made for.

"My soul still takes breath." Another sunrise. Another day. I live. I thrive. I kill. I do what they say so that I can kill, so that I won't die.

My name is Ghost. I am a woman. I am slave. I was born to destroy and build, but mostly to kill the dead. When the Instructor gave me a choice, I chose to help, but many were afraid. Those who did not agree to the rules of the council, were Outcast; blindfolded, gagged, and dragged from the safety of the capital deep underground. They were taken to the surface and given nothing but a chance. Many die in the first Blood Moon, but many survive and prosper. The outcasts who prosper are tracked. How is it possible that anyone can survive on the surface and avoid death? I asked myself this question and decided that I would see for myself. "Help us" they asked. I agreed, and even though I no longer live in their underground world of cowards and darkness, of mothers, fathers and leaders, I answer the call when it comes. A scout is what they like calling us. Searching the world, killing the dead, rebuilding what we can, and moving on, unless they need us to track an outcast.

I have lived for fifty two days on the surface, and seen seven blood moons. They say that I am among the best scouts in the region at killing and building and seeing dawn, but there is a man who had done far better than anyone thought possible. It was my job now to find him.

"Tracks." I drove to region where the scout once stalked his prey. I left my car in a hilly ravine, covered it in thick brush and followed the markings in the dirt to where the other scout had set up his bunker. His dirt bike prints made it easy enough to find. I lifted the metal hatch and descended down. It wasn't very well setup. He built deep underground, had very minimal defenses, and relied heavily on avoiding the dead, not killing them.

Hiding underground wasn't my style. I took what supplies that I could carry, took another antibiotic just in case, and examined his map. Zs island wasn't marked, but an island was usually in a body of water. The largest of which was in the region west of my location. I climbed the ladder to the surface, hinged open the door and it groaned loudly, certain to attract any nearby zeds. Oddly, it wasn't loud when I opened it to go down. Then I felt rain splatter on the top of my head.

"A storm is coming." The rise in humidity made the metal hinge of the hatch squeak. I climbed out. I scanned the plains and could see distant movement in the rain. I didn't bother to see how many there were, but I knew it was the dead. My mental compass turned me west, away from the horde, and I began to walk.

To occupy my mind, I picked up a few stones and began to sharpen them to make some simple stone bolts for my crossbow. While not the most accurate they were very effective at close range. At nightfall I reached a forest area miles away from any overrun towns and saw a temp shelter made of wood. It was surrounded by spikes. As I got closer I heard the familiar rustling of a zed in the dark. Two. There were two. I could hear it. Who ever had been here, they were either hunkered down in that shelter, or dead. I backed away silently, double checked my surrounding and kept moving west. I didn't like leaving two zeds to wonder about, but fighting at night was never fun if you didn't have the upper hand.

By morning I had reached another checkpoint on the scouts map. It was one of his listening posts. He had at least done a fine job of tracking Z. I dug up the radio box, picked the lock, and check the logs. Z apparently had a mine to the north. I buried the radio and walked on. A zed was in my path, some woman who looked like she died in the middle of a fancy party. She lunged for me and her head kindly impaled itself on my knife. I dropped her to the ground, checked her pockets, found nothing of use and kept walking.

I don't know what I expected to find when I arrived, but I was not prepared to see a large, well crafted, excavation of the earth. It was multilayered, wide and sloped downward to a concrete entrance into yet another cave area. I stayed up top, unpacked my ghillie suite, picked some grass and got comfortable in the tall the grass. I wove the grass into the mesh of my suite and pulled it over my back. A rabbit hopped near, and when it turned it's back to me I reached out and plucked the little furball in the back of the head. He lept away in a full sprint. I only hoped my camouflage would work as well with a standing male. If he was focused on mining he wouldn't notice me, but if he were to be at all suspicious of the ground and came to check it out, he would no doubt find me.

I waited for nearly two days, in that spot. I had to pull the dead grass out and replace it with fresh grass twice. Then I heard the unmistakable putter of a motor.

My patience paid off. He arrived just as I hoped he would. He never saw me laying in the grass near his excavated area. He got really close while eating yucca and breaking some boulders. I was only ten feet away from him. He was well armed. Judging by the sniper rifle and crossbow Z carries, he has us outgunned. Looking at his stamina and eating habits, it's easy to say that he is well nourished. I followed him back to his island tunnel, I camped out on the shore line and tracked him with my sniper scope as he continued to build up his island. He's a hunter, an engineer, a farmer, and a survivor. I see why he has command so concerned, and why they want his island. Taking his island, however… would be suicide.

Blood Moon. This is my 52nd night beyond the capital. I've never run from the horde, and I won't tonight. As I slaughter the horde charging toward me, I can hear the distance crack of gun shots. Z is also fighting. He doesn't hide from the blood moon. I'm beginning to admire him more and more. Thankfully, my sniper is silenced. When I finish with the dead, standing on pile of flesh five feet high, I calm myself. I toast to the living with a beer. "My soul still takes breath." I looked through my scope and saw Z stripping the remains of the dead and cleaning their corpses away from his walls. He's resourceful. I'd better clean up my pile before he comes out to patrol.

The things he knows, the things he can do, they are not the things that are taught to a Scout. He has training unlike anything that was given to us in the underground. Is he a surface survivor? Has he lived long enough to remember the old world; the world before the fires and the dead? Who is this man named Z? I continued to watch his island base, looking for signs that he was working alone. There was no indication that anyone else was living on the Island. Meaning the Scout that trailed Z before me was not there. My search for him, if he were alive, would need to continue.


	3. Making of a Scout

**Making of a Scout**

89 days ago...

"She hit me!" Gerald screamed as he backed away. He rubbed his check where a red bruise was beginning to form upon his pale face.

"So!" The drill instructor barked. She was a towering woman, almost two meters tall, fit and her silver hair the only sign of her older age. "Do you think the dead are going to apologize if they bite you, or scratch you? Hit her back! She's a tough girl, i'm sure she can take it."

The instructor pushed Gerald toward me. I stepped back, defensively. He swung his right fist and I caught his forearm with a double hand pull down over my shoulder. I could hear his shoulder dislocate as he smashed into the floor mat; I held his arm too long during the take down. He rolled away from me, sobbing and holding his arm as if it had come clean off.

The instructor shook her head. "Looks like Sarah is once again the queen of the gym. Gerald, get your ass off my mat and go to the infirmary. Everyone else, hit the showers. 'Hope for the future' my ass. The dead are going to eat each and every one of you, and Sarah's going to be the one to put a bullet in your heads." She turned to me and knelt down with a smile as I sat beside her. "Good job. But watch your back. Gerald and McClintock," she looked over her shoulder as the class emptied out of the side double doors, "their parents sit on the council. Something is going on. They were better than this a few days ago. They aren't putting their hearts into training anymore."

I was sixteen years old; a woman's age in our time. Dark skinned, powerful, and athletic. The boys loved me, the girls envied me, and my teacher's put their hopes in me. I was going to go to the surface. I was going to be the savior of humanity. However, there was the Council. They were the oldest of our underground world. Many of which remembered the world before the fires rained from the sky, and before the dead walked the Earth. They were all so afraid, fearful that the dead would find a way down to them. Me and my class, we hoped the dead would come down, so that we could test our skill against them.

I walked to the showers alone, listening to the happy banter of the girls down the hall as they mocked each other. That was when McClintock pulled me into a side hallway.

"What the hell are you doing?" I yelled as he put a finger to his lips to silence me. I looked around to make sure we were alone. "You can't just…"

"What are you thinking, Sarah?" He groaned in a silent fury. "We had a deal."

"Gerald beat you to it and Instructor Trast ended class. Not my problem!"

"I was supposed to beat you, and get a few extra points in my favor! You have nothing to lose."

"Gerald is still a child. If he took a punch as well as he negotiated for everything he wanted, he would be a lot stronger. You shouldn't be friends with him. He's going to get you killed on the surface."

McClintock smirked. "We're not going up there. I have everything I need down here. I'm being trained to defend myself merely for show. Same for Gerald."

"What… why?" I was dumbfounded. "Why would you want to stay down here? We used to talk about seeing the Sun, and who could kill the most of the dead…"

"You'll change your mind soon enough. My dad told me about Graduation. He told me about the trial, and you remember the video of the world above... We had big dreams as kids, Sarah. Truth is that we could die up there. Gerald and I aren't going."

Trast was right, there was something going on. I grunted. "This isn't our world. We've been trained for the surface. For six years we've been learning to fight, shoot, and survive! You can't stay! The elders have been training us to leave!"

"My dad is an elder and a councilor. So is Gerald's. They'll find a way to let us stay." He folded his arms and lowered his head. "And beating you would have given me more points to prove that I was worth keeping here. At the next training you have to let me win, just like we agreed."

We stood the same height, and I glared in his eyes. "If you are staying, you don't need the points…"

"As an instructor. I'll stay to be an instructor for the next class. I don't know about Gerald, but that's my plan. The more points I have the better my chances to get the job."

That infuriated me. "I'm not going to lose so that a wannabe Instructor can teach his dumb ways to the next group of kids. You want to stay here and be safe underground, and hopefully teach combat? You'll need to earn it. You'll have to beat me." I walked away. McClintock tried to stop me but I pulled away from him. He finally gave up as I walked into the women's showers.

In the bunks that night, I lay with my reading light on studying refreshing myself on how to use longitude and latitude lines on maps, and studying pictures of wildflowers and grasses. Sierra, probably the most beautiful woman in our graduating class, walked over to my bedside and curled up beside me.

"You know," she started to say as she nestled her head between my armpit and breast, "Gerald's pretty pissed at you. Says we shouldn't trust you. He's mad about that shoulder throw. He' cried about how much it hurt. No one ever hits him."

I smiled. "Pretty face like his needs a few bruises." I pulled Sierra closer so I could feel the warmth of her body through my freshly washed, but torn and tattered training uniform. It was the only clothes I ever owned and I had to patch any holes myself. Sierra was a blonde, blue-eyed beauty. She was also sleeping with nearly everyone in our class. She was a smart girl, not a skilled fighter. She knew that on the surface she would be nothing more than a casualty. However, by making herself friendly, and easy to fuck, she assured herself some protection. Hell, I knew her game and I still wanted to keep her safe. "You staying with me tonight, or you just here to chat about Gerald?"

"Gerald has something planned, so be careful."

"I'm not afraid of Gerald or his father. So, you sleeping here?

"Now Sarah…" She smiled. "You and I know who the strongest in class is. My information is always free to you, but getting that information isn't easy to get. You want to stay in the know? Then you have to share me, baby." She leaned over and kissed me as she began to stand up. "When we graduate and make it to the surface, I'm all yours. I promise."

I knew it was a lie. I knew that. Yet when I watched Sierra walk away, watching those shapely hips sway, I couldn't help but hope that she was telling the truth. Kevin walked by Sierra and she winked at him in passing. Kevin smiled in return and laid in the cot at my side. He had just left the gym with a sweaty towel hanging from his well defined shoulders.

"Kevin." I said with a strong glare. "You stink. Go shower."

"Ha!" He laughed. "You join me and wash my back… and front."

"After the way you lusted for Sierra just now, you think i'm going to want to touch you?"

"Okay. Okay…" He laughed. "But seriously, be careful with her. That girl… she's plotting something. Sierra hasn't done any combat training, yet she still has passing scores. Something's not right."

The following week was another hand to hand combat day and just as before I was in the top five going into the final drills. Instructor Trast pulled us together and evaluated us. It was Kevin, myself, Gerald, McClintock and Rob.

Trast paced around us. "So here we are again. The end of another hand to hand drill day and it's always you five. As is my typical way of doing things, I like to take the top students and ask them a question. Are you ready to graduate? But before you answer, I won't you all to understand that you are speaking for your entire class. You five hold the lives of your comrades in your hands. Get together and talk among yourselves." She walked away from us but made sure to stand between us and the rest of our class. We could see the panic on the other's faces.

Kevin spoke first. "So, we don't fight. We just... "

McClintock barked. "I needed this fight!"

I glared at him. "You wouldn't have won, anyway."

Rob was the voice of reason. "We need to choose. Yes or no? Graduate now or later. I say later."

McClintock agreed. "Later. I need more points."

Kevin shook his head. "One win wouldn't give you enough points to top Sarah."

Gerald agreed. "He's right. You still haven't told me why it's so important for you to get a few more damn points."

McClintock spoke softly. "My dad! Man! He needs me to show that I can fight. One win would give me a points in my combat record."

I groaned. "You're stupid, McClintock. But I also think we should wait. Even with a few more weeks of training I doubt it will be enough for our other classmates, but it will at least give them a few more days to train."

"So, we wait?" Kevin asked as he looked at us all. We all agreed. We turned to face Instructor Trast and she slowly wandered closer.

"Well?" She asked.

"We've all decided to wait." Kevin spoke for us.

"Unanimously?" She asked as she lowered her head.

I said, "yes. It will give some of the other students some additional time to train."

Trast nodded. She turned to the whole class and spoke loudly. "It is time to face the dead. If you want. The choice is yours. I wish you all luck." Trast walked away. Her head hung low, and exited the training room just as another door opened on the far side of the room. Several men in military uniform walked in with wheeled laundry carts.

"Remove your clothes and toss them into the baskets!" One of the men yelled. "Keep on your underclothes!" Terrified expressions filled the others as they were pushed to the center of the training room by the soldiers. We did as we were told despite our clear confusion.

"They said we'd wait!" Sierra shouted. "We're not graduating yet!"

"We never had a choice." Kevin grunted as he took off his clothes. I did the same, filled with anger for being lied to. Trast could have easily just told us that this was our last class, instead, she gave us a false choice, but why?

After everyone was down to nothing but their underclothes the men with the laundry baskets left the room from the way they came in. The lead soldier said, "Your training uniforms will be passed down. We don't have the the supplies to keep making clothes. My name is General Rand. Like you, I was once a student in this very school. My father was a soldier in the dead war years ago. He's long gone now. I put a bullet in his head after he turned. You have all trained to face the dead, and to live off the land. Today, you put that training to use. But first… the dead. You must know the dead." Sierra walked close to me, and put her hand in mine. She was trembling.

I was excited, as was Kevin, Peter, Samson, and Tina. Most of us could not wait to face the dead, to truly test our survival training and to finally see the sun. Gerald pushed passed us along with McClintock.

"We demand to talk to the council!" Gerald barked.

The soldier smiled. "They're right there. Other side of that wall. They're watching you right now."

McClintock turned toward the bare wall. I knew there was a the lounge beyond that wall, but after all these years we never noticed that it was a stained glass, camouflaged to look like a wall. The stone color faded to show a room full of older men and women sitting in bleachers. Our parents and our grandparents, or our donors; not all of us had true parents.

"Dad!" McClintock ran to the glass and pleaded. The old white man that he was addressing simply lowered his eyes.

The soldier began to talk. "Each of you will be given a knife. It will be your only defense. Use it well. This is your graduation test." A soldier walked out with a bag and poured the contents onto the floor. The metal clang against the pavement. A pile of knives, one for every student in the class. We ran off the mat, us brave few who were ready. Others stayed behind, afraid to leave the false safety of the training mat. I grabbed three knives, and ran back to Sierra, and tossed another knife to Kim.

Then we noticed that the soldiers were raising their guns and backing away from us. They lined up against the wall and began to pull on their helmets and double check their gear.

Kevin cursed, "oh fuck… fuck, fuck, fuck!"

The lead soldier walked to a closed door behind him. As he opened the door it revolved around the wall and closed behind him into an adjacent room. His voice sounded on the speakers in our room. "Kill or be killed." One by one the dead walked out of the room. Slow, staggering, tattered in old clothes of various colors, clothes worn by survivors on the surface, clothes from the old world. The smell made me gag. Even from across the room, you could smell them.


	4. Graduation

**Graduation**

The Dead. They lumbered slowly, without care or concern, toward us. Driven by an unseen hunger, they reached out toward us, as if it would increase their speed. Instinctively we backed away, some more than others.

Sierra backed away and dropped her knife. "Sierra!" I screamed at her. "Pick that up, now!"

She glared at me. I could see it in her eyes. The fear. She wasn't alone. Several students were backing away, terrified. We had seen pictures. We had practiced on dummies that were painted like the dead. We had watched movies of them, but never seen them in reality.

Tina, grabbed my arm. "Screw them! We have to fight!" She was the smallest of us. Short, slender, and full of fire. She was right. I gripped my knife tightly and watched the dead. In all the time I had been watching my classmates cower behind me, the dead had only walked a few feet from the door. There were ten of them. Something caught my attention, however. A guard was pointing toward the group of the dead. He then started talking to other guards at his side. Something was off.

"Yeah.. it is!" One of the soldiers yelled. "Screamer!"

The lead soldier, safe in the back room, started talking on the microphone. "How the hell? Get the kids out! Kill the horde! Hurry!"

A soldier ran for the training room door and began to bang on it, while the other soldiers took aim and were about to fire on the small horde, but then came the scream. The first time I had ever heard it, a sound that burns into your memory forever. The screamer filled the room with a deafening wail that seemed to drive the dead around her. The entire horde doubled their speed, and began to moan in hunger. While still not running, they were now moving much faster.

"No!" Another voice sounded on the microphone. It was Instructor Trast's voice. "This is their graduation and they will face worst odds on the surface. Class! Face the horde together, or you will all die!"

The lead soldier rebuked. "Ma'am! My men are in there!"

"And they are not to open fire unless the last student is dead."

Kevin stepped forward. "Cover each other!"

Our other classmates ran back to the door the soldier was trying to open. They were begging for help, screaming to be saved.

I was nervous, but I wasn't going to run. "There's 8 of us, and 10 of them! Good odds." Kevin, Myself and Rob charged forward. Even Gerald, despite his noble hopes, had charged into the fight. Tina, Kim, and Peter followed behind us.

Then I heard Tina curse. "Sierra, you coward!" Sierra had turned to run to the door. We were a fighter short, but still in good shape to hopefully handle the horde.

I remembered my training; hold the knife with a tight grip and go for the eyes if possible, prepare for the sensation of hitting bone. When my knife met the dead man's face, I missed his eye. My blade slide off his skull, flesh tore from his face, and I stumbled to the ground. I felt a hand come down toward me, but I kicked out at him, hitting him in the gut, and the dead man fell easily to the ground. It took almost no effort to knock him over. I stood up and saw that everyone was struggling. Even Kevin, whose brute strength alone was the best in our class, had failed to kill one of them. He pushed one of them away and it toppled over with ease.

"Get back!" I shouted. We all backed away. No one was injured. Then the screamer shouted again. We covered our ears in shock. "Kill that one first!" It meant running through the horde, but it had to be done. Then we saw, to our horror, as another group of the dead wandered out of the room from which the others had come. "What? There are more!"

The lead soldier shouted on the line. "We are putting the safety of the base at risk! Shoot that screamer!"

"No, that is an order!" Trast countered. "Sarah! Kill that screamer, now!"

Why me? Had she not seen how terrible I had done against the first dead I tried to kill? I don't know what came over me, but I bolted forward. I ignored the other dead, weaved through the horde and tackled the screaming woman before the second horde reached her. While on the ground I raised the knife above my head and drove the blade into the screamers forehead.

Bone. Bone was so much stronger than you think. The blade went sideways and slide off the front plate of her forehead. I cursed, raised the knife again and with two hands I brought it down, this time breaking through the skull. I could feel the bone scraping against the blade as I pushed the knife deeper into her brain. Her hands fell limp at her side and she gargled a death's calling.

One of the dead was walking toward me, I looked up just in time to see him, but I couldn't get my knife out of the screamer's skull. I had to leave it there. I rolled backwards, stood and pushed several of the dead off of me. I was surrounded. Panic was filling me. I was afraid. I was going to die. I felt teeth bite into my left shoulder and I screamed. I pushed, I kicked, I fought. My left arm went numb as I ripped my shoulder free from the woman's teeth. I saw a clearing and I ran toward it. I was free from the horde but the nightmare wasn't over.

I turned to look back and Kevin was fighting to get to Tina; she was pinned to the ground by two of the dead. Gerald was knocking the dead down with a shoulder lunge and then stomping their brains out. Samson was trying to take a rifle from a soldier, and the soldier refused by threatening to shoot him. Peter was holding his right hand, half of it was gone. Rob was backing away while slashing at a dead woman's face. Then I saw that a group of the dead were marching toward our cowering classmates. The soldiers near them simply slid along the wall; out of the way.

I gathered myself, ignored the blood flowing down my left arm, and ran for the pile of knives. Everything after that was a blur. When it was over, they said I had killed eight of the dead with a knife. Kevin killed three. Gerald killed five, three with his boots. Peter lost a hand, but managed to kill at least one. Tina had killed two, but she had been overwhelmed and barely got away. She Lost a foot and a lot of blood.. Rob had ran away. He had slowed the dead down enough to keep them away from the rest of the class, but he hadn't fought any of them. Kim killed one, but she had managed to save Tina after Kevin killed the dead that pinned her to the ground. Even Samson had killed two.

My body ached all over, as I lay resting on the side of the blood soaked room. The soldiers gave each of us an antibiotic pill to fight the infection. Without that magical little pill we would eventually die from our wounds, and become one of the living dead. My left shoulder had a chunk torn out of it across the top. The doctor told me that I would have to learn how to raise my arm all over again. Thankfully it was my left arm. Despite the intense pain searing through the wound, I was assured that I would live.

"No one died." Trast said as she walked back into the room. "Hard to believe considering what you were up against. Sarah, you saved a lot of lives. Be proud of that. I will be dealing with the person responsible for capturing a screamer. As you all know, a Screamer can summon the dead to her from anywhere. They will appear, no matter where she is. Killer her is urgent and you..."

"You left us in here to die." Peter sobbed.

Trast seemed unaffected. "I left a lot of you in here to die. I've left hundreds to die in this room. In total, under my training, I've only seen ten die. In each class I have a group of the best, the bravest ponder the question, and then I turn them over to the dead." She walked closer to us and knelt down, her knees quickly being stained by the blood on the floor. "You all learned your last lesson today. Each of you struggled to kill the first, but with each kill you learned more and more. It will become easier the longer you live. Surviving is not only about living off of the items you find, you must also gain experience by defeating the dead. The more you kill, the more confident you will become, the more your skills will develop, and it will leave one less dead walking the Earth.

"You will be given time to heal. To rest. The other classmates who did not help you fight… they will be sent to the fortress to work and defend this base above ground. They will need to earn their meals through hard work. You however, get to choose. Do you wish to stay here? Work and defend this place for the sake of the council and the capital? Or, do you volunteer to go out into the wild? Go out into the world and face the dead, and take back the world that was ours?"

Kevin spoke first. "Yeah, I'm leaving. Cause I don't ever want to see your face again, Trast. I'll take my chances on the surface, like I've always dreamed of doing."

Tina groaned, "I wanna go to, but I can't. I can't run on one leg." She was pale from blood lose, and had been numbed from the knee down. The doctor told her that once the medication wore off, she would feel the pain.

Trast smiled. "If you want to go, Tina, we'll find a way to make it happen. Maybe we can put you in the air." Tina nodded.

Peter asked, "Can I do that, too?"

"We'll help Tina because she's less mobile. You're on your own."

I also agreed to leave. "Once i'm able, I'm leaving."

"What?" Sierra shouted. We hadn't noticed that the rest of our class had huddled around us. "You can't leave me here!"

Trast stood and turned to face her. "Then you go with her."

"No!" Sierra screamed. "You need her here! She's the best we got! You can't let her leave!"

Trast fumed. "She volunteered. A volunteer can do whatever they want." She then turned back to us. "Welcome aboard, scouts. You'll each receive a radio. Check in with your region checkpoints and supplies will be dropped off to you every three days. If we lose contact with you, we will continue to send out supplies, but the location may be random. You're not the only people alive up there, so get to the supply drop fast or risk someone else taking it for themselves. You will also get to choose one weapon, a backpack of supplies, and a callsign." She turned and stared at Sierra. "Questions?"

Sierra opened her mouth, but said nothing.

Kevin, Samson, Kim and Rob had left for the surface immediately after Trast left us in the blood soaked training room. Peter took a few days to heal. but followed when his hand stopped hurting. Sierra never visited. She was sent to the surface to become disposable labor for the people who lived safely underground. It was the best outcome for her. A shame.I spent six days in medical waiting for my shoulder to heal enough for me to leave. Tina and I bonded over that time. She was in the bed next to me, mostly she groaned and cried from the surges of pain. Her rations of drugs was kept thin, and when they were gone she did not get any more. She had to fight to keep from going crazy and letting the pain consume her. I stayed longer because of her; another three days and Trast allowed it. Tina had asked me to kill her one night. She was in a cold sweat, her skin was still pale and sickly looking, and she was hallucinating from fever. I held her hand all night long, calming her, telling her to be strong and to fight; "never stop fighting." The next morning the doctor said she was through the worst of it. And that she could start learning to use crutches.

When Tina was finally able to leave we were lead to the surface by a different soldier than the one who released the horde upon us. He was an older man, with a thick grey beard and numerous scars on his dark tanned face. "Follow me. I'll be taking you to the surface." As we walked the hall to the great stairs leading upward, we saw a fight among several men. Two of them were subdued and pinned to the floor by armed guards.

"Damn... " Tina cursed as we watched. The two men were handcuffed. It was Gerald and McClintock. "The hell is going on?" The old man walked over once the fighting had stopped. Gerald and McClintock were stripped of their gear and being dragged away. One of the guards talked to the old man, he nodded and came back.

The old man spat at the ground as he approached. "Not even worth the supplies we will give them. It's the human thing to do, the council says. Fuck that. Let them survive on their own, but no, we have to give them a chance… the council says."

"What?" I asked. "What happened?"

The old man motioned for us to keep walking as he talked, "two snot nosed kids tried to blackmail Trast into letting them stay underground. Talking about how they'd be good instructors or guards. Only one of them two boys fought during graduation. The other one hid." We reached a door to the stairs and I gave Tina my shoulder to lean on as we ascended. "They'll be taken far from here. As far as the drivers can in any direction. Blindfolded during the entire ride. They'll be dropped off, and left to fend for themselves. They'll never know how to get back. Outcasts is what we call them. People who break the peace or doin't follow orders. But the council still wants to give them 'a chance' with supply drops. Bah!"

It felt like we climbed stairs for hours, but the old man assured us it had only been forty minutes. It was slow going with Tina hobbling up the stairs and needing to rest every few flights. Then we were on an elevator for nearly a half hour. The air was so much cooler when the door to the elevator parted. There were men and women all around, carrying backpacks of supplies and weapons. Some were resting or talking, while others were eating or repairing their tools and gear. Tina and I felt foolish standing around in our underclothes, but that didn't seem to matter to the men and women around us. They all stood to see us. A group began to softly applaud for us as we walked through the massive bunker.

The old man said, "word about you has spread among the local scouts. Killing that screamer… she could have seriously caused us some trouble. Welcome to the surface." The door of the bunker was open and I walked outside. The sun hung high over head, blinding me with its warm rays. An airplane took off in the distance, thundering down a runway and then soaring into the sky. It was terrifying. We'd been told of the old flying machines but never thought to see one. "Supply run for the scouts in the field. Always remember to check in, and get to the drops fast."

Tina's eyes were fixed on the plane. "I'll… I'll be on that?"

The old man smiled. "Maybe. They need gunners for when they land and sometimes before they take off. The dead usually come back into the region after a Blood Moon, and sometimes the runaway will be full of 'em. You'll be in the gunner seat… if a pilot will take you."

"Hey you two." A scout walked up to us. "I'm the communications technician. I need to record your call-signs for your region check-in."

Tina smiled. "Wings." She laughed. "You know, since I get might be on a plane.."

The scout exhaled. "Shit. Forgot about that. You'll need to go up to the tower and talk to some of the supply pilots already in the air. See who needs a gunner. Cross over the airfield." He pointed to a tall building with a glass dome at the top. "There's a couple of the dead roaming around, feel free to kill them for us while you're on the way over."

Tina cocked her head at him. "Did Trast tell you that I only have one foot?"

"Not my issue." The tech answered uncaringly.

A man in thick leather armor, with a shielded helmet, and wielding a bloody machete wondered closer to us. "I'll go with you, scout. It's not too far."

I knew that voice. "Kevin!"

He lifted his helmet's face mask and smiled. "Good to see you two finally away from Trast. Don't worry, Tina, I'll help you get over there. I'll round up a few scouts and we'll clear the area."

"Thanks!" Tina smiled. "Can't believe you haven't left us for good yet."

Kevin grinned. "I was waiting for you two to come up."

"You've been busy." I said, admiring his gear.

"I guess you can say I got lucky three days ago. Found all of this in the trunk of a dead scouts car. Parts of him was still in the driver's seat. Wasn't pretty what happened to him."

The tech sighed. "That Scout… yeah, he probably got caught driving in the blood moon. They always think they can run over a horde, never works out that well." He turned to me. "And you, what's your call-sign?"

I smiled.


	5. Zone A14

**Zone A14**

Scout: Reginald "Snake"  
Days: 205

"Say again, Command?" Damn radio, always screwing up in bad weather. The storm up above was full of wind driven rain and lightning. I could barely get a signal to be clear let alone hear if any of the dead were stomping around above my head. Still, my tiny little hole in the Earth was secure; leaking, but secure.

~"We… target… arrival."

This was pointless. I slapped the radio and powered it off. I'd have to check in after the storm passed. It was going to be another cold and lonely night. I paced around my small square shelter, sorted through my gear, counted ammo, did some push-ups and eventually worked up the nerve to go to sleep. You'd think that after all these days alone on the surface I'd be used to sleeping in the dark. I blew out my light and the darkness swept over me. My blanket was my only comfort.

It was around 3 AM when I heard the ground above rumble. It was a large horde, larger than I'd ever heard. I couldn't tell which way they were going, but they weren't stopping and that was all that mattered to me. It felt like an hour before the last sound of them wondering about faded away. Their footfalls in the grass ceased, and I finally exhaled. My fingers were numb from tightly holding my pistol for so long. Needless to say, I wasn't going to go back to sleep. I quietly crawled back to the ladder, laid on my back glaring upward at the hatch and waited for dawn.

After a few hours in the dark, the sun's rays split through the pin sized hole I made in the hatch. Light had returned to the world. I grabbed Betty, a few rounds of ammo for my pistol, some rations, my radio, and my armor. I climbed to the top of the ladder, pushed the hatch open as fast as I could, winced at the loud metallic whine of the hinges, and jumped out of the hole. With my head on a swivel I checked in every direction. It was clear. None of the dead had stayed behind. The ground, however, showed the trail of their journey. The grass path was as wide as a house, and completely flattened. They missed walking over my hatch by only a 2 or 3 meters. I was grateful to had not gotten their attention.

"Scout checking in. Copy?" I clipped the radio to my collar and started walking west.

~"Copy." Came the reply. "Lost you last night."

"Really bad storm in my Zone. Also, reporting a massive horde, heading south. Bearing toward… Zone A10… I think. They may settle in a town or something. Not sure how many, but it's a fucking lot of them."

~"Copy that, we'll let the scout there know… hmm… must be Ghost. Shit, she'll love the challenge."

Ghost, her name gave me a chill. She was a rookie scout, but a certified killer. Word of her exploits were being shared all around the populated Zones. I was told that she was the type that would save your life, only to use you as bait for the dead. The council enjoyed talking about her just as much as they constantly asked for updates on Z.

~"Any new reports on Z?"

As if on queue. I exhaled. "None. It's only been 24 hours since we left him."

~"Are you going to check on him? He's all alone out there. No telling what he's getting into. It's the end of the world, scout. We all have our jobs to do."

"I know." I sighed on the line. The end of the world, or is it the beginning? All I know is that we just kicked him out of the van; naked and alone with enough provisions to last a day. It's all we could afford to give... all things considered. We watched him until we were out of range of our binoculars, and he was headed toward our lost outpost. We lost a lot of good soldiers there. If civilization is going to restart, it'll need to start with people who aren't afraid to die. The end of the world...damn. If he survives a Blood Moon... then maybe... maybe it will be the beginning. "He's special, you know."

~"I know. The council and the elders are keeping very tight lipped about him, but until he survives a blood moon, well, I'm skeptical."

"You didn't see the way he moved. He gathered resources fast, and for his first time on the surface, he didn't seem to care at all about seeing the sun. Who does that? I mean, I can't think of one person who came to the surface and wasn't in awe of the sun. No, Z went to work gathering resources, as if he knew… like… he knew he needed to start searching and gathering. Hell, he didn't even care to look for our van after we tossed him out. I've had a few outcasts chase after us after we tossed them."

~"Well, he had training, we all did, even if he is an outcast. They get you ready to face the surface, that's why he knew to gather things."

"Not like this. This guy, i'm telling you. It was different. He is different. And he's not an outcast, he's a volunteer."

~"Volunteer? You sick, Scout?" He laughed on the line. "Only outcasts get driven that far away from base, blindfolded and tied up."

"I hadn't thought about that." It was true, we handled him like an outcast, but the guards who turned him over to us said that he was given a zone to inhabit. They specifically told us to drop him off in Zone Alpha 14. Even though we treated him like an outcast, I assumed he was a Volunteer given a special assignment.

I spotted a few roaming dead on the horizon, I altered my path to not be seen by them. Most scouts go out of their way to kill the dead. Me? I'd rather avoid them, and stay undetected, which meant turning off my radio. "Going silent till my next check-in."

~"Be safe, scout."

I powered off the radio, took out a beer and held it up to the sun. "Still here." I smiled. "My soul still takes breath." I didn't drink it. It was my last beer and I didn't want to down it until I found some more.

I walked for nearly an hour and found the military outpost where Z had headed toward when we left him. I knelt behind a boulder, double checked my surroundings, and looked out toward the outpost through my rusty binoculars. Z was nowhere to be found. I wondered closer to the outpost, pulled Betty from off my back and began looking for tracks. He spent the night in the lookout tower, his bedroll was freshly made but not slept in. A crawler was slithering across the sand as I climbed down from the tower. I smashed it's head in with Betty; her iron spikes sent fragments of flesh in every direction.

I saw some footprints in the sand, and some rock shavings typical of stone tools being carved. He went west, toward the lake. He was on the move, and with only a few more days till his first blood moon he was already ahead of the curve.

"Maybe he's not a rookie. Z, who the hell are you?" I picked up the trail and followed at a reasonable pace being sure that I didn't accidentally stumble upon him.


	6. The Island

**The Island**

Scout: Reginald "Snake"  
Days: 247

The White River Settlement has shown their ugly little faces again. They promise safety, but only to the strong. I'm more than certain it's a trap by raiders, or bandits… outcasts seeking to loot the spoils of the living by offering them the false hope of safety. I cleaned a zeds brain fragments off of Betty and took the time to dip it in the lake and give the spikes a good scrub. Nothing says self defense like a wooden spike club. Betty has been my partner since the day I left the fortress.

"Got another one." I said on the radio. "White River Settlement note. Found it on the body of a dead survivor, has to be at least a month old. She was pretty rotten when she stumbled upon me." I pulled the bloody note from my pocket and read it once again.

~"You think people believe that crap?" My check-in replied with a chuckle. "Survivors and scouts find these damn things and go looking for them, only to end up eaten or starving to death in their travels. This is number… damn, note number 100. You lucky devil." He laughed.

"I wish it were real. I know it's not, but if it were…. That there are good people out there, a town of living people, protecting each other and thriving on the surface."

~"No pilot that has flown these lands has ever seen any settlement in tact. Lots of ruins, they say, but nothing that still exists. Anyways, you got a report?"

I exhaled and threw the paper note into the water. "Z, is still building. I have sketches of his plans, but I can't fathom his work area. He has an underground as well, under the island, but for now all I can see is the wall he's building. Defenses on top of defenses. I'm putting more in my notes. Has the council said anything about my early notes?"

~"They're very interested, that's for sure. But they aren't saying anything to me. They are expecting you to check in tonight, so hurry to your Zone base before dark. Blood moon is tonight. Get going."

"Copy. Scout out." I leaned over on my makeshift raft as I bobbed up and down just beyond Z's fortress island. His defendable walls lined with spikes and trenches, appear to be unbreachable. He doesn't sleep. He's always working… always building, planting, harvesting. And the Moon will rise tonight, blood red and watching… driving the evil that has consumed the dead. We can't hide on these nights. I need to head back to my outpost, but watching him inspires me. Hope. This man… he's done more in 42 days then the world's last leaders have done in decades since the infection began.

Using my hands, I peddle back toward the beach. My small raft would not gather any attention from anyone who found it. Most would think it was just a piece of driftwood. I drag it on land noting that the sun is starting to set fast. I take one last look through my binoculars at the structure in the lake. "The Island." I dubbed it. His Island fortress grows with every breath. He works frantically. It seems impenetrable, and massive in scale. How can one man build something of this magnitude? He clearly has an underground structure, but I have no way of venturing inside without alerting him to my presence. Maybe one day…

I've lingered too long, the moon is up and they are coming for me! The scream! I've heard it only once before, and I swore I'd never want to hear it again. I've always been safe underground, unable to hear the scream of a blood moon, the marking of the dead knowing where you are. Maybe I should swim to his island. Stand with him and face this moon. The living versus the dead at the end of it all. No… my duty must come first. I have to report back to base, and if I go to his Island fortress, he would have no reason to welcome me; I would only be in his way.

I'd wish him luck, but I think I need it more than he does. I turned and ran, and ran, and ran some more. I could hear the footfalls behind me. Stealth was out of the question now, they were fresh on my trail. I turned on my flashlight so that I could see better, and I heard the familiar growl in the distance. Dogs, were fast, lethal and had a much more aggressive attack than regular dead. I pulled out my pistol, turned and fired on the dog. Its head turned sideways and its body tumbled lifeless to the dirt. I kept running, sure that more dogs would be coming, and the sound of the dead was growing even louder. More of them were on to me and falling into line with the horde that had already found me.

Conditioning was going to be my only saving grace. I was a damned good runner. I had to calm myself however, and remember my breathing. None of the dead were as fast as a living human. I could easily outrun them so I slowed my stride to that of a fast jog, and I had to remember three key factors: pacing, breathing, and dogs. In this world where everything wants to kill you, you have to be able to run, even if that means running throughout the night. Dogs would be my only real threat.

Two hours since sunset, and I was hitting my heavy breathing stage. My lungs were on fire, but I was still going at a good pace. The dead were still behind me, running after me with a bloodlust that went beyond normal understanding. They simply appear, and if you are on the surface, they find you and won't stop coming for you until the sun rises. I tripped while in thought, rolled forward, dropped my flashlight, and stood up in stride. I cursed under my breath. I was tempted to turn back and find grab my flashlight, but fear washed over me, and I pushed forward into the dark. It would take a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the darkness, and my little tumble allowed the dead to gain a few yards on me. I exhaled heavily, steadied my nerves and focused on what was ahead. A tree rushed into view as if it magically appeared and I dodged at the last minute. My heart raced even more, not from exhaustion, but from sheer panic at the thought that I was going to be caught.

"No! No you dumb fuck!" I cursed aloud. "We're fine! Focus! They can't catch me. Maintain a light jog! Breath… breath... "

I was running for my life, blind and alone. I needed light before I eventually ran into a cave, or an impassable hill. I turned my head just enough to listen behind me. I had at least a sixty meter lead, but I needed more. I needed to grab a torch from my backpack. I pulled my elbows in, extended my stride and sprinted for ten seconds. It was a risky maneuver but I had to try. I came to a stop slipped my backpack off, reached in for the torch, pulled it out, scratched it with a piece of flint and watched it ignite. I then tossed my backpack over my shoulder just as the first dead came into the light. A Feral, a monster with pale skin, exposed muscle and organs, and sharp teeth meant only to tear flesh from bone.

I turned, kept my composure and made sure I didn't panic. I've seen Ferals before. I've seen Pukers before. This is nothing to be alarmed about. "I can outrun them. I can!" I ran on. Checking my pace and my breathing with each step, while making sure to listen out for dogs. Moments later I was on the road, and I knew exactly what road I was on. That familiar sound of foot on asphalt was a welcoming relief. Now that I didn't have to worry about the terrain, I ran toward the grouping of cars just up the road. I slide over one car, pulled the branches off a pile of debris, keyed in my lock and started my minibike. It roared to life. I tossed my torch and turned toward the Zone A14 base checkpoint. Safe. I was going to be safe. The headlight turned on as I sped down the road, leaving the dead in my dust.

The sun was casting its welcoming aura on the horizon when I reached the checkpoint. I had been driving for nearly 2 hours and two guards waved as I approached. There was a mountain of the dead piled up at the entrance, the result of the bases blood moon. The guards were looting the dead as I parked my minibike.

"You're late." One guard sighed. "You missed the fun." He was a large black man wearing steel plated armor and carrying a shotgun.

I climbed off my bike, and tried to think of something witty to say, but my legs gave out on me and I fell on all fours. Sweat was pouring from every pore. My body was shaking. The infection? No, I wasn't bit or touched.

The younger of the two guard walked over and put a gun to my head. "You got the fever? You get bit? You turning?"

"Knock it off!" The older guard said. "Dumb ass" He laughed and pushed the other guards gun away from me. "Here, drink some tea. It'll help calm your nerves. I guess you had a rough night." My muscles had been tense for hours. I had ran for several miles, and even when I got my minibike I still didn't relax. "The adrenaline is starting to fade, Scout. The sudden sweat, the shakes, yeah… you're crashing and your muscles are finally calming down. You may even be a bit dehydrated. Go see the doc when you're able to walk. You'll be fine. Here," he gave me a shoulder and aided me to the bunker wall, "rest here. Got a few stragglers wandering in."

"Tank, go get some help from the guys inside. I'm low on ammo from the fight." The young guard said with a panic.

"Nah. We don't need them. It's just a few walkers. No threat. You keep cleaning up, i'll deal with them. Hey scout, pull out your pistol just in case one gets too close you."

I nodded. I was unable to actually speak to him. I reached into my pants pocket and pulled my pistol out, fumbled with the ammo magazine and let it slump lazily in my lap. I must have been really out of shape to get this bad after a night run. It had been a long time since my last long distance hike, but still, I felt terrible.

I watched as senior guard "Tank" cut through the wandering horde with a machete. I knew his name, but had never really spoken to him. Your call sign was your marker in this world. What you build and what you kill, leaves your mark. Tank, he was famous for one thing; defending Zone A14s checkpoint. Since his arrival, countless days ago, none of the dead have breached the bunker's walls. He then searched all of the dead for supplies before walking back to me.

"You good?" He asked.

"Y… yeah." Finally, I could move my tongue. "R… really outta shape, I guess."

"Running from a horde, panic, fear,... it all catches us at some point. No matter of conditioning can prepare you for your worst nightmare." He offered me a hand, I refused. I wanted to stand on my own. "You reporting in?"

"Yeah, Scout Snake…"

"Oh. Say no more. Inside. There's a councilor here to see you. He's been waiting for a while for you to deliver more notes." He leaned closer to me. "You're in pretty deep, kid. Zs name is a bit of a buzz right now." He turned and banged on the blood encrusted hatch. It groaned and a guard opened it from the inside. "Take him to room 003. Tell the old man, Snake is here."

I turned back to Tank. "My horde...they're following me. They're walking now, but they'll eventually get here. I'm sure they've lost interest in me, but you know how persistent they can be."

Tank nodded. "Yea. They'll keep walking aimless in the last direction you went. If they find us, I'll add their numbers to my total. Go in and rest up. You're safe here." Tank and his young partner pulled a bottle from their hip pockets, held it up to the sun and took a drink. I was too tired, or else I would have joined them.


	7. The Killer

**The Killer**

Scout: Sarah "Ghost"  
Days: 38

Last night was a good night. I slept in peace. I slept all night. I even slept in till midday. It was the most rest I'd had since leaving the underground. My lofted sanctuary at the top of an abandoned Shamway food store served as my home, my base, and my life. It felt good to be home.

I had been on the road for nearly three weeks: 18 days. I traveled. I saw as much of the world as I could with my meager rations and ammo reserves. The car I rebuilt from scraps and salvaged fuels, held up well enough to get me there and back. I'm sure it'll need some serious rebuilding now, but it can wait. I don't plan to go anywhere for a while. Today I'll be focusing on preparing for the Blood Moon.

"You awake?" A deep voice softly swayed across my ears. I rolled over and saw Tank standing at my shack door.

"Thanks." I said with a long stretch. "I haven't slept that good since recovering from graduation."

"Well, I owed you one. Letting you get a full night's sleep makes us even. Plus it was nice to get away from my bunker for a while. Had to come make sure you were doing okay." He was wearing a dusty set of steel armor plating. His helmet was attached to his hip and a shotgun was slung over his left shoulder.

"How was last night?" I stood up, wearing only a pair of pants and a top. I pulled on my leather armor, secured all the belts and picked up my trusty sniper. I found a small mirror in my travels and I used it to check my teeth. "One of these days I would love to find a toothbrush."

"The night was quiet." Tank said, as he sat down on the floor just inside my door. "Otherwise you would have heard some thunder." He laughed as he patted his shotgun.

"That thing is too loud. You'll attract every corpse for two miles." I opened my food locker, and took out a few protein bars I found beyond the irradiated zones of Navezgane. I tossed one to Tank.

"I only use it when things get dicey." He tore open the package and ate it in two bites. I nibbled mine as I walked out the door. "Besides that, you've got enough traps around this place to keep anything away." I scanned the terrain as I walked to the edge of the brick building. I had broken out several holes in the roof of the building so that I could shoot down, inside the Shamway, if anything was in the building, and the walls were surrounded by spikes, barbed wire, drop pits, and in the event that things got out of hand, I had a gas trench that I could ignite to burn anything clawing at the walls.

It really felt good to be home.

"I have plenty of space, you know." I turned and looked at my tiny shack sitting on the roof. "You could build up here as well. We could ask someone to come and check the building integrity and show us how to strengthen it. We could turn this place into a fortress."

"You know my bunker is my home." Tank smiled. He has such perfect teeth. "And I better go check in before they think to replace me. I built the damn thing, can't have some yuppie upstart trying to muscle in on me." He turned to the ladder and motioned to go down. "Oh, before I go, any interest in having sex?"

"Tempted." I smiled. "It's been a long time. A long… long time. But I have to get this place ready for the Blood Moon. Come back and check on me after the moon. Maybe then?"

"If the mood hits." He smiled again, showing those gorgeous pearly whites.

I suddenly thought of Sierra. I hadn't thought about her in days, but now she was at the forefront of my mind. I exhaled and tried to push her out of my mind. I looked at the ladder's ledge and saw that Tank was already gone. I walked over and looked down as he navigated through my traps to where he hid his minibike. He turned and waved to me. I blew him a kiss. Tank was my only true friend in this world. He made me feel… human, when he was around. We constantly joked about having sex together, but I was afraid to. This world could kill you at any time, and if our friendship evolved it would be hard to let him go. It would be worse than what happened with Sierra.

To Tank, I wasn't "Ghost, the killer, the unstoppable," I was just a girl he saved 37 days ago. He put that sniper in my hands, taught me how to repair and modify it, and most importantly, he taught me how to shoot it. He was much older than I was, but he was the most important thing to me in this world. Yet as he drove away from me, I could feel the pressure building up inside me once again. That deep cold rage that drove me to be "Ghost, the killer, the unstoppable."

Something needed to die. I didn't care what it was, I just had to kill it.

"Is that why you killed me?"

I spun around and glared into Sierra's eyes. The rage that boiled within me snapped. I lost control. I lunged and punched at her, hitting her in the side of the head. Blood drained from my punch and I pressed my fist harder and harder against her head.

"Is this the reason I had to die?"

"Shut up! Shut up!" I hit her again and again until the blood was all I could see of her face. Then I backed away. I smiled. She was a bloody pulp and the liquid flowed from her like a red river. "I killed you because you were weak! We trusted you! You deserved to die!"

"You know," she smiled and the blood dripped from her wounds, "it was because I hurt you."

"Get out of my head!" I wanted to scream. I closed my eyes and when I looked up again she was gone. I clutched my sniper, climbed down the ladder and ran across the quiet town to a nearby forest. Hunting was always good here. Shooting a pig, a bird, a deer, anything would make me feel better, so long as it died.

It was several hours later before I dragged my kills back to the base. I fired four rounds and brought home four dead animals; 2 deer, a pig and a squirrel. It was quite the haul, and dragging them back to the base was taxing. I had to make a sled out of branches,and dress the deer and pig while out in the field; it was the only way to get the meat back. At the wall of my Shamway, I tied them to my hoist, climbed up the ladder and pulled them up. Once the meat was up top was when I finally realized that I had killed too much for me to possibly eat. It would spoil long before I could possibly eat it all.

I unclipped my radio and called it in. "Zone A10 to anyone within earshot. I've got too much damn food. Come and get it." I hated it, but I didn't want to waste it.

~"Ghost? You're offering dinner? Seriously?"

~"No fucking way! Really?"

~"This has got to be a trap."

I exhaled with frustration. "7.62mm ammo and ammo material for trade. First come first serve." The scouts went wild on the radio with voice chatter. I wasn't going to fuel their banter. I dropped the radio and dragged the meat to my fire-pit. I'd have to cook it all. Even after cooking there was only so much I could store and dry out.

The sun was setting when the first few scouts started to climb my ladder. I made a few of them stand guard as dusk became night. I had cleared my town of the dead, but you never know when a wandering horde would stumble in. As the night progressed my rooftop base was becoming crowded with men and women eating away at the meat I served. Kevin happened to have heard my trade request and stopped by. It was good to have a trustworthy set of hands with me. I let him eat for free so long as he managed my trades while I cooked up the meats.

Everyone took turns keeping watch for the dead. Some took the meat and left; those who could afford it anyway. I was even able to sell a few uncooked pieces that I hadn't yet dropped on the fire. It was a profitable night. I picked up well over a thousand rounds of sniper shells, and at least three buckets of gunpowder. I was sure to store that in a safe place.

It was actually an entertaining night. There was only one fight among some of the more raw scouts. Apparently someone stole a beer from another scouts backpack. They all knew better than to steal from me, I'd kill them. It wasn't a threat, it was a promise.

The dead never came, despite the singing and cheers that went on throughout the night. Gatherings like this rarely happened in the wild. Old man Silo said they used to call this a Bar Be Queue in the days before the dead; drinking, eating, talking throughout the night. I just know that I made a hefty bounty from too much killing.

When the sun came up most of us toasted the arrival of a new day; some drank beer, some could only manage to drink water for fear of puking. I put out the fires, woke up the drunks, and kicked nearly everyone off my roof. Found a couple having sex in one of my storage closets on the far side of the Shamway, "Clean up when you're done," I closed the door and walked off.

I got a lot of praise. "Fantastic night, Ghost!"

"Thanks for the food!"

"If you ever need a partner out here, let me know!"

One of the braver souls walked up to me directly. "You've got a bit of a reputation around here." She said as she tightened her gear. "People fear and respect you. I understand the respect, but not the fear."

Kevin walked over. "Thirty five hundred confirmed kills and she's only been on the surface for 38 days." He told her. "And that's not including how many she may have killed while she was away."

The older woman nodded. "That's admirable. I don't see a reason to fear you because of that."

Rob walked by, "She has a tendency to kill her partners. Four so far." He climbed down the ladder and began walking east. I was the first words I had heard out of his mouth all night.

The woman looked at me. "Did they betray you?"

I walked away without answering. I started cleaning away trash the mass had left behind and saw Kevin talking to the woman. She looked at me and then climbed down the ladder. Kevin came over and sat down. "You need any help?"

"No." I exhaled. "Thanks for collecting for me."

"Thanks for the food." He looked out over my small town as scouts began to drive and walk away. "Heard from Tina?"

I stopped cleaning. "She wanted to stay…"

"I swear to God, Ghost. If you killed her."

"She didn't want to come back!" I glared at him. "She is traveling with a caravan looking for the White River Settlement. I begged her not…"

"She left with you on your adventure, and didn't come back. I was hoping to see her here. But you can understand why I don't believe you, right?"

I gave him a stare that I wish could have killed him where he sat. "Sierra…"

"Don't even say her name!" He stood up and towered over me, my knife was up and at his throat before he could react. "Go ahead. Add me to your dead friends' list."

"Back. Off." He took a step back. "I understand you're angry. What happened between me and Sierra… it happened. We both made a mistake, hers cost her more than me."

"She wasn't a fighter, Ghost." Kevin paced. "You knew she couldn't beat you."

"You weren't there. So stop trying to analyze the situation. What happened, happened. It was her or me… and yes, that's why Tina didn't come back. Just like I lost you as a friend, I also lost Tina and Rob and Kim. You can hate me for Sierra, I'll accept that I am a killer, but I am not a lier. Tina stayed out near Navezgane with a caravan of survivors looking for the White River Settlement. I even gave her my radiation suit."

Kevin exhaled, gathered his gear and went to the ladder. "Bye, Sarah."

I closed the latch and sat on a crate overlooking the ladder. Kevin was the last to disappear on the horizon. It had been a long night, and an even longer morning. I hadn't thought about Tina, Sierra and all the others in a long time. I may have gained a lot of ammo, and upped my reputation with the scouts who didn't know me, but felt as though I had made a lot more enemies.

I grabbed my radio and turned to channel 9.3. I pulsed the signal six times and waited.

~"Yeah."

"Hey."

~"How'd that feast go? Couple of my guards came your way after hearing your offer."

"It's over. They should be on their way back."

~"You don't sound to happy. I'm sure you made a mint last night."

"Can you come back tonight? I could use some company."

~"Wish I could. We've got an elder here and I have to take him back to the capital. We're hitting the road tonight. I won't even be back for the blood moon. What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Just… old memories. Be safe on your trip." I turned it off and glared at the sun. Tomorrow would be dog day. Just another cursed moment in this fucked up life. I stood up, grabbed my tools, supplies, and side arm. Time to focus on my defenses.


	8. The Last Men

**The Last Men**

Scout: Reginald "Snake"

Days: 248

I was resting in the doctor's room when he came bursting in. "Tank told you to see me directly, didn't he?" The old man walked in as his guards closed the door behind him. He wasn't a frail man at all, and it was hard to believe he was nearly a hundred years old. He wore clean armor, unblemished steel chest plate and with leather protected leggings and arm gauntlets. This man had not seen any fighting in a long time. His guards, however, showed the wear and tear of men who had spilled the blood of the dead. Their leather supported armor was torn, tattered and crusted with flaking blood.

I sighed, "I'm here, Sir. Had I known you were coming back so soon, I would have made it here a lot earlier."

"I didn't plan to come here, but i'm on my way to Airfield #6. I plan to fly out to Navezgane. Ghost reported some interesting findings about this White River Settlement. Tina… Wings, she calls herself?"

A guard nodded. "Yes sir."

"Stupid girl. Anyway, she's decided to forgo her air support training and stay out there to look for this so called survivor city." The old man sat on a chair in the corner of the dimly lit room. Since he was a dark skinned black man, it was even harder to see him.

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked. "Thought you wanted my reports on Z?"

He chuckled. "Forgive an old man for trying to have a conversation." He smiled. "I figured you would be interested in this news. Everyone eventually goes looking for the White River…"

"And no one finds anything." I said abruptly. I was tired, thirsty, hungry and not in the mood for the old man's lack of focus. I nearly died the night before, I risked my life to come all the way to the bunker instead of hiding out in my underground shelter. "Sir, you want my latest…"

"What if I told you it was real?" He suddenly said.

"Is it?"

He smiled. "Z is a very interesting man, don't you think? And all this nonsense with the White River Settlement? Quite fascinating. The world… so full of mystery."

I glared at the old man. "Sir, is it real?"

He exhaled slowly, as if to mock me. "No. But Z is, and I have my responsibilities to make sure Tina doesn't end up finding another faction that could jeopardize our way of life. If we are to ever rebuild on this world, we must accept that the dead will forever be a part of our lives. Z, as you said, is building a base that could withstand an onslaught… hell, he's already fought several Blood Moons there, alone. Imagine what it would be like if we fortify it. Turrets, spotlights, men guarding the perimeter." He held out his hands. "Show me."

I reached into my backpack to give him my notes, but my gut did flips. Something wasn't right. In this world, what you build is what you leave behind, and the number of dead that you kill makes the world just a little safer for those who come after you. This old man was up to something, something my conscious was not happy about.

As I dug into my bag, I asked, "sir, what do you plan to do? With this information, I mean?"

"Take it from him." He said with his hand extended. "Think of the safety we could have inside those walls. An above ground fortress that can withstand the continuous assault of the dead."

I purposefully did not grab all of my notes. I couldn't see what I was grabbing, but I made sure to only take a portion of it. "What about the Capital? We've been defending that for ages."

"You know it won't last. We don't have the skill to build the things of the old world. But somehow, Z can. And building farms above land is too risky. We're short on food, supplies, and we don't feel safe. We need something new."

"Then why not talk to Z. Ask him to teach us." I gave him a few slips of paper and some simple drawings I made. But the majority of the details of Z's base was still in my backpack.

The old man scanned through the pages. "Is this all?" He studied several pages more intensely than others. "Where is it? The Island? You don't have coordinates written down."

"I never thought to write that down," I lied. "Old habits. We scouts tend to use land markers and waypoints to find our way to familiar sites."

"Show me your map." He glared at me.

I didn't hesitate to show him. I dug into my backpack, pulled out a folded piece of cloth with several sketches, outlines, charcoal drawn roads, ink and crayon markings.

"What is this?" He scuffed. "A child's drawing?"

The guards didn't seem to like that and neither did I. "That's a map, sir. A scout's map. A map made in the field while hiding from the dead, or running from the dead. A map drawn from memory of my particular Zone."

"The Island?" He huffed as he try to understand my map. I pointed to the Island in the middle of a lake. "Where is this?" Without a point of reference, looking at my map was useless.

"My zone." I said with confidence. I could see that the old man's reaction to my map was upsetting his guards. They were scouts like me, chosen from the field to protect him. Seeing how disconnected he was to our way of life made me feel as though he really didn't belong here. "Sir, you've never seen a scout's map?"

He looked at me, and then noticed his guards were eagerly awaiting an answer. He smiled and gently folded my map. "Since the end of the great war, I don't come to the surface too much. But I felt it was time I made more of a presence up here. I should lead by example, not from relative safety." He gave me back my map but kept the notes I gave him. He stood from his chair and began walking to the door. "I'll be leaving now. I should return from Navezgane in a few days. Please have the coordinates to Zs base when next we meet." A guard opened the door and they walked out.

Nearly an hour later Tank walked in and sat at my side. "He finally left. I hate that old shit." He said as he took a drink from an old can of hot beer.

"Does anyone like him?"

Tank nodded. "The elders back at the capital. They love that man. He's the oldest living survivor of the great war in the area. He created the school, defended the capital from the dead, and rallied all the survivors in the shelters to band together. Mind you, this all happened decades before we were born."

I nodded and reached into my backpack for a jar of water, wished it was beer, but the doc said I shouldn't drink till I was feeling better. "So he's their hero." I took a sip. "That explains why the old man can do no wrong in their eyes."

Tank nodded. "I took him back to the capital a few days ago. The surface is nearly in ruin. Everyone now lives underground. Hell, even the fortress is abandoned. The dead have been wearing it down little by little. I built this bunker with stone I found lying around, and the old man literally takes it from me every time he comes here. The doc? She's only here because they told her to stay here. I don't mind sharing my home with you scouts, but it just goes to show you how little they understand of the world. He comes here and he feels 'safe'." Tank laughed and sipped his beer.

"Clueless." I added. "Nothing is safe."

"Nothing." Tank agreed.

"We keep it safe by fighting." I continued. "And they don't understand that."

He nodded. "The world he had before the great war, and the fires, and the blood moon, it must have been a paradise. I tried to tell him, we are safe because we kill the dead. Walls do not make you safe." He put his beer down and raised up the shotgun that was hanging from his left shoulder. "This! Keeps us safe."

"We need to talk to Z." I added. "He understand surviving in this world better than anyone I've ever seen. His walls are defendable from the inside. It's amazing. That is safety. Killing the dead, but still being behind walls. I've never seen anything like it."

Tank seemed confused by that. "Killing the dead, but still behind a wall? We have time before the next blood moon. Can you show me? Maybe I can learn something."

"You? Tank, you don't need to ask. I'll take you there, just promise me you won't tell the old man."

Tank laughed. "Fuck him."

We rode together throughout the night to the distant lake in Zone A14. By dawn we were parking our mini-bikes at my normal hiding spot, covered them with loose branches and then running across the countryside. A scout must go unseen when stalking an outcast, so we made sure that we didn't accidentally bump into Z.

We reached the lake and took out our binoculars. I looked in awe at how much more Z had built since I left him on that Blood Moon night two days ago. Not only did he survive, but he continued to build. I could understand the old man's eagerness to take it, but without Zs knowledge it would eventually crumble.

It would be insane to take that island from him.

"Is that it? That has to be it!" Tank asked.

"The Island… his island. Yes, that's it."

"I can see plants… defenses… trees… how did he…"

"I don't know."

"You've been watching him for days, and you don't know how he does all this? Paradise… safety." Tank was completely lost in the visuals of the Island. "I won't to get closer. Those pillars… Can't the dead squeeze between?"

"I've seen wandering hordes walk up on his beach,and bash into them. They're wide enough that Z can shoot through them, but close enough to keep the dead out."

Tank chuckled. "You know more than you think. Damn, this is inspirational. How does he make that stone… what is it, and how is it so strong that the dead can't destroy it?"

I pulled down my binoculars and looked around to make sure the area was still safe. "It's some form of steel strengthened stone. It's the same thing used in the destroyed cities. Z can make it."

Tank looked at me suddenly. "Concrete? I remember the old man talking about that stuff. But it's impossible to make. And the dead can break if given enough time."

Concrete. That was what it was called. "Z can repair it."

"Shit." Tank laughed. "I see why you're in such awe of this man. Damn. I want to talk to him. We should just go over there and talk to him."

I exhaled with a heavy breath. "If only we could."

"Why not?"

"We threw him out, remember?" I remembered. "You may not have been there, but I was called to the Capital, they had Z bound and gagged and sitting in a cell. We threw him in a van and drove him all the way here, being sure to make enough turns so he couldn't find his way back to the Capital. A three day trip. If he saw any of us, he'd have the right to kill us."

"Wait, Z's a Capital outcast?" Tank asked.

"I'm not sure. He was there when I got there. The old man hinted that there is a connection between Z and the White River Settlement."

"The White river... "Tank lowered his binoculars in thought. "If he's from the Capital and can build all this, then why…" Tank was silent a second. "When I took the old man back to the Capital, the other old farts kept asking him if Z was finished. As if they knew he was building something. Like they sent him out here to build this. As if he were a scout. Real secret stuff. You're talking as if he were an outcast. It doesn't add up."

I agreed with a nod. "My check-in thinks the same thing. But it's weird. No one knows if he's an outcast or a scout. There are dozens of outcasts that we could monitor, but no one is talking about them."

"Z." Tank said. "Z is the only one they care to talk about. Do you think he's connected to the White River Settlement?"

I sat down and leaned against a rock as the midday sun loomed overhead. "Maybe Z is from the White River Settlement. He found the capital and…" I scratched my head.

"That would be something." Tank added. "It would explain a lot. But if he were from the White River Settlement, then why would we throw him out of the capital, why not go looking for the Settlement…" Tank suddenly got quiet.

"What?"

"Ghost. She just got back from Navezgane. She said Tina was going to stay. Maybe there's a connection."

"You know Ghost?" I asked in earnest.

Tanks smiled. "Yeah, she's a good friend of mine. She went to explore the world with Tina, but she got as far as Navezgane and came back. Her friend Tina stayed to find the Settlement with some others they met out there. I wonder if she was told to go there?"

"You think it wasn't a coincidence that Tina stayed."

"Not anymore." Tank looked through his binoculars again and then patted me on the shoulder. "Thanks for showing me this, Scout. You be careful out here. I'm going to go talk to Ghost. There's something about Z that doesn't quite fit."


	9. Unforgiving World

**Unforgiving World**

Scout: Reginald "Snake"  
Days: 253

~"Snake, copy! Scout! Reply, over!"

"This is Snake."

I held the radio close and stood to take a look around. You never know when the dead would accidentally stumble upon you.

~"Z is in the city!"

"Where?" I turned and looked at the unguarded Island, and Z was miles away.

~ "The city… he just showed up on the edge of town! We don't know where he came from… he's got the Zed's attention. Looks like he's a dead man. He's completely surrounded."

"He'll be fine. Keep watch and contact me when he's finished with the Zeds." The City was the one location where scouts had established a regional checkpoint to monitor horde activity. My Zone was quiet, but we always had eyes in every major city. Now was my chance. I didn't bother to look for my makeshift raft. I tightened my backpack straps and dived into the water.

It wasn't easy, but I managed to swim across to his island and enter his bunker. The lock on his vault hatch was unlocked. I couldn't believe my luck. Why wouldn't he leave it unlocked? He doesn't know he's being followed, and for as much as he knows there aren't any other living souls within miles of his island, and who would even know where this island is. I lifted the hatch and climbed in, being sure to close it behind me. I could finally get a visual of his underground bunker.

As I descended down the ladder, the warmth quickly swelled over me. Dirt and stone became brick and concrete as I reached the bottom of his lair. So much concrete. It was incredible. There were rows and rows of chests and crates. All of his supply crates were also unlocked, but I didn't take anything. He had food, water, supplies, tools, weapons, ammo, everything an army would need to survive, and it was all so very organized.

His underground was nearly as well built as the military underground sanctuary to the far north of the City, but he built this all alone. Tank's bunker was nothing in comparison to Z's. "Tank, you would be a very angry man if you saw this." I chuckled to myself. There was a room with rows of stone forges, and campfires, a bench with tools and a round metal device churning with rocks and sand. I was beside myself. I took pictures of it all.

Then I found an access tunnel leading further down and away from the bunker. My compass showed that it was leading into the direction of the destroyed city nearby. Did he… could he have mined out a tunnel all the way to the city? It would explain why he showed up there unseen, and why I hadn't heard him leave out of his exit while I was topside. I resisted the urge to explore further, took pictures of his main bunker, and left out the way I came.

I reached my underground at dusk and quickly began to fumble through my gear and saw that I was desperately short on some supplies. I ate some corn muffins I got from Tank's bunker, and drank some water to wash it all down. Tomorrow was going to be a Blood Moon. I would need to find extra supplies during the day or risk not having enough supplies in the event the dead found me.

~"Scout, he's headed back."

My radio echoed throughout the room. I quickly turned the volume down and hoped nothing above ground heard it. I waited a few seconds before responding. "Is he headed back to his bunker?"

~"Yeah. A tunnel in the mountain side. He was over there slaughtering some night runners… it looked like he was having fun."

"Thinning the dead before tomorrow's blood moon. Not that it matters. Thanks for the report. You guys stay safe."

~"You too."

I slept pretty well that night. I had to. A blood moon was coming and I needed to be rested and mentally ready. When the sunlight peeped through the pinhole in my hatch, I sprang to my feet and ran up the ladder. I needed to head towards town and see if I could scrape up anything useful. I threw open the hatch, checked the area and took out my last beer.

"My soul still takes breath!" I chugged it in three big gulps. I'd need to find another one. I turned on the radio. "Scout Snake, checking in."

~"Blood moon, scout. You ready?"

"I will be once I get some supplies from town. Just hoping Z hasn't already cleaned it out. Should be something I can find. Radio my supply drop to send it as close to town as possible."

~"... We've lost contact with Airfield #6. Not sure what's going on. We're sending scouts to investigate, but we're fearing the worst."

I stopped walking. The supply drops were our lifeline in the field. It was a five day bike ride to the nearest military depot if we wanted to get our own supplies, and for security purposes the military didn't take kindly to people walking into their region asking for handouts.

"What do we do?" I asked.

~"I don't know. I've got some of my men out scraping up supplies as well. Hell I have a farm but it's not nearly good enough for the long term. If Airfield 6 really is gone, do you think… you think you can talk to Z?"

"Shit. I told you… he may blow my brains out of he sees me. He never saw my face, but he knows we kicked him out."

~"We got to try something, Snake."

"Okay." I exhaled. "Tomorrow, when he's cleaning up after the blood moon, I'll approach him. But if you don't hear from me… either he killed me or I didn't survive the blood moon."

I walked into town, my head hung low with doubt. My check-in made a good point. Z had everything we could use to live off of. We'd only need to hunt for a few wild game to get meat. My fear was approaching Z, not knowing if he was friend, foe or other.

I reached the edge of a small outline of buildings, it wasn't the actual town, but it was a good place to stop. There was a radio tower nearby, it would make a great place to start, but then I heard that wonderful low groan of an airplane. It was the supply drop. I glared upward and gave a shout.

I chirped the radio. "You are a sight for sore eyes! Who are you, you beautiful set of wings?"

~"Pilot Ron Jordan. Supply run 73-6.10. A horde hit Airfield #6 the moment we took off. We've lost all contact with the tower there. They were understaffed and didn't have enough manpower to hold off the dead… the blood moon is fueling them again. We are redirecting to Airfield #4 after dropping off supplies to field scouts and above ground survivor-outcasts."

"Good luck, Ron. And thanks for everything."

~"Stay sharp, scout. I hope the next supply drop will have something you and your outcast friend can use. If you ever get the chance to talk to Z… shake his hand for me. 73-6.10 out."

My check-in was right. Another airfield destroyed. We don't have the manpower to defend them. The dead outnumber the living… it doesn't matter how many supplies we have, if we don't have the people to use it. I ran for the supply drop and ignored all else. I swerved around a couple of the dead and when I reached the supply crate I quietly said a prayer. It was full of food and medication.

I couldn't believe my good fortune. I clipped my radio to call in to the checkpoint and there was no chirp or sound. Thinking this was odd, I checked all the switches and knobs. Then I saw that the red battery indicator was pulsing. I cursed. The batteries weren't strong enough to keep the radio on. I hadn't needed batteries in ages, but now I had to go search for them. It was too late to make a run toward that radio tower I had found before, instead I'd go there tomorrow morning, after the blood moon. I gathered the supplies, killed a few dead walkers that happened to be nearby, and made my way back to my hole in the ground.

The blood moon was clearly upon the world now, and I hid below ground as usual. I sat in one place, not moving. I did everything in my power to avoid the attention of the creature's blood lusts above ground. Right now, Z was most likely unleashing his full arsenal upon the unholy creatures. I could just imagine him sitting behind his fortified walls, shooting and hacking any of the dead that got too close. It brought a smile to my face. I would go to him tomorrow, once I found some batteries, and ask him to let me join him. To teach me his skills and how to build.

There was a loud thump upstairs. Something walked across my hatch. It wasn't the first time the horde managed to stumble over my hole, and usually they would keep on moving. Then there was a loud crack and rumble. Stone and dirt and dust fell down my hatch and I drove my knife into the woman's rotting head. She exhaled a death sigh and I waited for the rest of them to come down.

After 253 days, my hatch was the only defense to keeping the dead away from me. It was a stealth defense, and I knew it was very risky, but on this Blood Moon my defenses failed. The hatch didn't break, instead it was the wood frame resting next to it. It would be an easy fix, but if the dead came to investigate the sound, I would drawn in a sea of zeds. It was pitch dark in the room once I blew out my torche. I peered upward to see if anything was looking down. I could see movement walking past the backdrop of space, and then something tripped over the broken wood above. It stood up and peered down into my dark sanctuary. It couldn't see me, but its hunt for blood made it begin to lean downward.

Cautiously, and as silently as possible, I grabbed the woman's corpse and pulled her to the corner. I took her blood and began to smear it upon my face and arms, the smell was vomit inducing and I fought the urge several times. Once I was satisfied with my bath of blood, I sat in the corner and pulled the woman back on top of me. I silently placed weapons all around me, leaving the woman's dead form between me and anything that came down the ladder. I put my arms under the woman's arms, and made her look as if she were sitting naturally in the corner, dead.

Two forms moved in the darkness. A blob of a man who groaned with each step he took. And a thin man with no shirt and a quivering upper body. They shivered about the room, walking into each wall, kicking the woman, and my foot. I stared at them with a squint, peering through the woman's mud and blood drenched hair. They simply paced about, uninterested in the body and eventually one of them stumbled back into the ladder and walked up, I could tell it was the large fat man. The skinny one froze in the center of the room, jerking around nervously, scratching at his hair, and gurgling. He didn't move for hours, and neither did I. My butt was sore, then my leg fell asleep, then my arms, and after another few hours everything below my waist was numb. Without warning the creature stumbled toward the ladder and climbed out. I could see light shining down and I realized that the Blood Moon was over. The sun was up and I had survived.

I waited a few more minutes before moving, knowing that I would need to get my blood circulating again. I grabbed the woman by the waist, her body stiff with rigor mortis. She was much heavier than before, partially because I wasn't able to move my legs. I put my hands across her chest, the most action I had ever had, and leaned her over. She toppled easily off of me. I did some silent stretches, fought back the tears as blood began to circulate into my legs, and worked out the kinks in my stiff hips and knees. I grabbed Betty and climbed the ladder and found the above ground swarming with the dead. More than twenty. I dodged as many as I could, slapped a few of them with the delivery end of Betty's spiked end, and lured the others away from home. Took me close to an hour to kill them all. I had never fought so many of the dead in my life, and it felt good to be victorious.

I took out a bottle of water, held it to the sun and laughed. "It's not a real toast, but it's all I got left. My soul still takes breath!" I chugged it with a laugh and turned back toward my hatch. I quickly patched up the hole. It was covered in torn flesh from the three zeds that slipped through it. Once it was repaired I added a few more strips of wood to be sure it would hold in the future. I climbed down into my bunker and scavenged the woman's clothing and began the horrific act of chopping her up. It was the only way to get her up and out of my den.

With the clean up done, I gathered some gear and decided to go back to the radio tower for batteries and anything else I could use. I decided scrap metal was going to be a good idea as well, in order to strengthen the hatch and the wood around it. I also gathered my camera and notes on Z. "I'll head over to Tank's bunker once I'm done with the radio tower. He'll love to see these photos of Z's interior.

I fought a few wandering dead and crept past a few more once I reached the radio tower. The doors had been broken in, a clear sign that the place had been looted before I got there. I walked into the first door leading down into the stations supply and storage rooms. It was pitch black dark. The only light was coming from the terminals along the wall. There was still power left and that meant there had to be batteries somewhere.

First I needed light. Then I'd search the entire place for extra radio equipment and use them for scrap metal. There was bound to be usable batteries in the equipment. I knelt to take a torch out of my backpack when I heard a shuffle behind me. She fell on me before I could react. My arm came up instinctively and she bit into my forearm. Her mouth snapped closed and I could see her teeth tearing into my flesh. I didn't feel anything, I was simply pissed off. I kicked it her off me and stomped on her head. It was a nurse, probably the doctor stationed at the radio station. I dug into my backpack and grabbed a bandage. I wrapped the wound quickly, daring not to look at it, and could hear more of the dead shuffling down the stairs.

"Damn it."

I looked up and saw an outcropping out of reach of the dead. My left arm was useless, so with one hand, I threw my backpack and torch up, broke the ladder with my iron pickaxe and climbed up. Then I broke another part of the ladder. That would buy me some time. I propped my torch up and examined the wound. Blood was pouring out at a madding rate. I could see my bone from mid forearm to just below my wrist. I was already feeling weak from the blood loss. I grabbed an antibiotic, but then I looked at the wound again. There was no point. I would need to seal the wound, and no bandage would stop this amount of damage. I wished I had paid more attention in field medical training. Perhaps then I would know what to do. I got careless and she got me good. This radio station will be my grave. I thought I was in the clear. That nurse…damn. A soft rumble of an engine was tattering outside. That sound… it was Z's mini bike! He's driving by.

"If I can… ugh… " It had taken all my energy to climb up here and break the ladder beneath me. Coming down here was a mistake, but I hoped there would still be good radio equipment left. I really needed a battery to contact my check-in. After a few moments Z's mini bike engine was getting more and more faint. And the dead were still beneath me, reaching up to my perch with arms extended, begging for my flesh.

Sad, this is an excellent hiding spot. I never would have found this spot above the stairs in any normal situation. Time's up. Getting tired… Maybe someone will find my bag, and what little gear I have left in it. The fever was starting to set in, and the blood was trickling to a stop. I could feel my heart begin to lose strength. No, no pill would save me from this fate. I was going to die.

"But… I won't turn…" I grabbed my gun, and didn't give myself time to think about it. -bang-


	10. The Fall of Airfield 6

**The Fall of Airfield #6**

Pilot: Ron "Scatter" Jordan  
Days: 124

"Morning Ron." Samantha was one of the best copilots in the air. She could fly, manage drops, patch an engine, and kill the dead with marksmen precision. Sadly she wasn't my copilot. She zipped her flight suit up to her waist, wearing nothing beneath, and sauntered off to the toilet. "What time are you flying out today?"

I tossed the blanket aside and examined myself in the mirror. I was getting a bit of a tan and getting fat around the waist, but who cared so long as I could defend myself and fly my bird. "0800 is when I'd like to be in the air. Flying through Zone 8, 9, and 14" I walked across the room and stood next to the toilet door. I leaned inside as Samantha brushed her hair out and washed her face in a bucket of 3 day old boiled water. "You?"

She dried off, uncaring that her bare chest was hanging naturally for me to see. "My pilot should be landing soon. New crew day… yay." She said sarcastically. "Wish I had my own plane."

"You can fly with me anytime, babe." I smiled. She walked over and kissed me. "No. Lovers should never fly together. We'd lose focus. Besides, I'm too bossy in the air. You know that. We'd kill each other on supply runs." She laughed and finished zipping up her suite. She grabbed her goggles off my night stand and stepped into her boots. I got dressed in half the time. Slipped my boots on and followed her out the door.

The sun was shining and new day was in swing. The airfield was buzzing with workers from the fortress. Every plane on the ground was being loaded with supply crates, and fuel. Engine maintenance was overseen by head engineer Fox. Fox had a dozen or so aides following him around, asking questions, doing his bidding, and getting tools for him. Samantha had studied with him for a few weeks in order to learn how an engine works and how to fix them, but even after all that time she still only learned the basics. Fox was an old man, a survivor of the war, and he was going to eventually die; his health wasn't good. He had been training dozens of men and women on how to fix planes, so that when he died his knowledge didn't die with him. According to him, there were only three people left in the world who could completely rebuild a plane engine. Thanks to his teachings over the years, that number has gone up, but Fox still thinks that the people he trained aren't good enough. "If you can't build an engine from scrap parts, you aren't a true plane mechanic", he'd yell. Samantha was never able to build a complete engine from scrap, but she was always able to fix a busted engine. It was a start.

I looked at her as we walked to the planes. "You ever think to do more training with Fox?"

"Next week I start another session with a few other kids he's selected." She smiled. "He thinks we'll certainly be the best, and hopefully one of us can build an engine from scrap." She put her hands up to block out the sun. "Looks like Susan is landing." I put my hand up to block the sun as well and could see a bird flying in. The plane was still off in the distance, but the roar of the engines was starting to grow louder.

Samantha kissed me, "I'm going to go meet her once she lands. Come say bye after you inspect Bertha."

I waved her off as she walked away to the landing strip. Checking the time, I noticed that I was behind schedule and late for my walk around. I turned and jogged to the loading dock as a gunshot echoed in the distance, followed by several more. A guard ran by and I asked if it was a roaming horde.

"Yes sir," The young man muttered. "Northbound. They're stuck on the spikes beyond the fence. Nothing to worry about."

"Aren't we short on defenders?" I looked around noticing that only a few more men were running to the South fence. Airfields were typically defended by a skeleton crew because of limited resources. Too many defenders would simply drain away supplies that were intended for pilots and scouts in the field.

"Yeah. But…"

I glared at him. "You tell those boys to keep the gun fire to a minimum. Use spears, axes and knives unless you want to draw in every horde for four miles. The planes are loud enough, we don't need the extra noise." Gunfire echoed in the distance. "Go on!"

Clearly not happy with my orders, he tapped his radio. "Cease fire! I have orders from a pilot…. You heard me. A pilot! You tell him that. He's right! Just stop shooting. If it's only a handful we can do it quietly." He ran off toward the gunshots. It eventually got quiet. Airfields around the world were going dark, no longer communicating, and if we weren't careful so would ours.

I reached Bertha and slapped her on her metal shiny butt. She resounded with a thoughtful thud that vibrated inside the plane for a few seconds. "How's my baby girl doing this morning?"

Fox wandered over with his closest aides. "Engine is fine. She's got a few screws loose in the chassis, but we tightened them up." he never stopped walking and went to the next plane.

One of his aides stayed with me. "I gassed her up, gave her some new oil and pressurized the tires. You still haven't found any Oxygen tanks, so we recommend staying under 8000 feet unless you want to get into trouble. The lower you are the better."

"Thanks for the reminder." I smiled. "Air is better the higher I go."

"Don't care, it's your funeral." He retorted.

I walked under Bertha's belly and touched her tires. I checked her joints where the wings met the hull. I gave the flaps and slats a good slap for good measure. I walked to the back and jumped up to the elevator to give it a slap as well.

"Really wish you wouldn't do that." The aide said. Little kid didn't like us pilots abusing our planes, but it was all in the spirit of love. "You can do that from the cockpit. Pay up, sir."

"How much for the inspection?" I took out my notebook.

"200 tokens, 4 lbs of corn and any medicine you may have." He said as he checked his notes.

I wrote down the transfer of supplies order and signed it. "I should be able to cover that. Be sure to tell air control that I need more side arm rounds, okay?"

"Whatever." He walked off after taking the supply order from me.

My copilot, Joe, walked out of the plane. "Yo, cap. You're late! Did you see that?" He pointed out of the hanger as several people ran over to the plane that had just landed. "Susan got something in her cargo, it seems." I watched as everyone gathered around the stopped plane. The pilot, Susan, climbed out of her plane from the emergency side window of the cockpit. "That's not normal."

I double checked my time. We were a bit behind schedule. "Joe, start the engine, i'll clear the blocks." I looked back at the commotion surrounding Susan's plane. I didn't like this. I ran to the wheels and started kicking the tire blocks out of the way; the wood wedges used to keep planes from rolling accidently. I tossed all the blocks clear and looked back out as Samantha began pushing people away from the plane. I tapped my radio. "Samantha, the hell is going on?" She looked up from the crowd and toward my garage.

~"Susan's passengers! She was flying in with some elders from Cuba for a meeting! One of them must have been sick… or infected. Not sure. She says the whole crew has been compromised. There'll all dead! She's pretty shaken up. She locked the cockpit door, even locked her copilot out when he went back to check on them, it was the only reason she survived."

"How many?" I asked.

~"Compliment of ten. Plus her pilot. It's a pretty legitimate horde size."

"You get clear, let the guards handle it."

~"It's okay. We have plenty of people here to handle it. We called the guards and they're still cleaning up the horde at the south fence. We got this, babe."

"Samantha!" She turned from me and back to the crowd around the plane. I turned to Bertha and ran up the ramp, closing it behind me. I saw that we were fully loaded with our scout supply drops as Joe started the engines. "Joe, tell the tower we're taxiing for take off."

Joe looked at me. "What's happening with Susan's plane?"

"There's a horde on it. Samantha thinks they can handle it. Bunch of pilots and some grounds crews… the hell do they know about fighting a horde?" I looked out the window to make sure we were clear. Our ground crewman was off helping with Susan's plane. I cursed under my breath. "You taxi, i'll guide you."

I opened the cargo hold side door and hopped out onto the pavement. My eye happened to catch Susan's tailgate lowering in the distance, and the sound of gunfire filling the air. The bodies were spilling out of the plane as I waved for Joe to taxi forward. "Jesus…" The dead were coming out of the plane like someone had thrown a bucket of water. There had to be twenty so far and they were still coming out. Panic filled the group trying to stop them and everyone scattered. I waved for Joe to speed up and he gave the turbines more gas. The thunder of the twin engines propellers pushed the plane forward and the turned toward the runway.

"Samantha!" I yelled into the radio. Then I heard the yell. The scream, the blood curling scream that carried on the wind and was even louder than the plane engines. "No no no…" I turned and ran to the side door and jumped back into the plane. I pulled myself in and left the door open. I looked back as a dozen of the dead were standing on the ground where I was. They appeared almost from thin air, wearing the torn and tattered clothes of the forgotten world. Their moans filled the garage as they turned to face me and began their deathly stagger toward me. I was well out of reach, and ran to the cockpit. "Joe, I'll take it. You go secure the door and try to find Samantha or anyone."

"What's happening?" He ran back, stuck his head out the door, and saw the dead walking behind the plane as I steered toward the runway. "Fuck! A screamer? She had a screamer on that plane?"

"Yes." I pulled my headgear on. "Tower, tower, this is supply run 73-6.10. ready for take off. Anyone there?" No answer. The tower had already fled. I looked back at Susan's plane as at least ten more of the dead came walking down the ramp, lead by six dogs. I cringed as the dogs ran after people I knew. Old man Fox was standing at the tower door, banging to get in as one of the dogs ran toward him and his aides. The door opened just in time to let Fox and several of his aides in, but one aide stayed behind to fight the dog and keep it out of the tower. The dog overwhelmed him and began to tear him to shreds as more of the dead crept closer.

"Samantha! If you can hear me! Get to the runway!" I reached the take off point and looked out at the chaos. People were running everywhere, piles of the dead were ripping victims apart. A puker walked out of Susan's plane, followed by more dogs and a feral.

"I have her!" Joe shouted. "Samantha is aboard! Two more with her… a few more headed towards us! Got them!"

Samantha jumped in the copilots seat beside me and buckled in. Her eyes told the horror she just witnessed. "We gotta go! Everyone hang on!" I accelerated down the runway. My propellers clipped the heads of several of the dead, as well as my wheels. The plane jolted several times but I kept her going straight. Once were clear of the main landing strip the dead were no longer in view, and gaining speed for lift was easier. We took off and I finally took a breath.

"Samantha, take over. I'm going to check on our guests." She grabbed the wheel and leveled the plane. I unstrapped, leaned over to her and whispered, "take this. Just in case." I gave her my last antibiotic.

She shook her head. "I wasn't bitten. Save it for one of the others." I agreed, kissed her on the forehead and walked out of the cockpit. "Seal this behind me." I closed the door and heard the reassuring sound of the lock engage.

I walked back to the cargo hold as Joe strapped people in. "Anyone bit, or scratched?" There were six people aboard. "I have antibiotics, so speak up! We don't want anyone turning on the plane." I lied, but Three people held their hands up. Including Susan, Samantha's pilot. I looked at the other two and saw that one of them was with Fox, an aide. I walked closer to Joe and whispered, "give me your antibiotic. I'll repay you." He gave me the pill and I nodded for him to walk to the front of the plane. "Go help Samantha."

Once he left I gave my pill to the aid, and Joe's pill to Susan. I kept my eye on the other man who was bit. A ground crewman. He was reaching out for me to give him a pill. "Anyone else have piles?" No one answered, even if they did have one. I exhaled heavily. "Sorry man, I only had two."

He was clutching the bleeding wound on his leg. "Open a crate! They have pills! They have to!"

Susan spoke for me. "We NEVER take supplies from Scouts! These supplies help the people who are trying to rebuild our world. We won't even take from outcasts."

I took out my pistol and walked close to the man. "I'm sorry." He was tearful as he pleaded to me. He didn't want to die, and I understood how he felt. I taped my radio, "Pilot there will be a gunshot."

~"Copy." Samantha answered.

I looked at him. "Close your eyes. I'll wait till you've turned. You won't feel anything. You'll fall asleep, and then it'll be over." He was sobbing loudly, holding on to his leg as blood poured freely from the small scratch wound under his uniform. He closed his eyes and lowered his head. It wouldn't take too long for the fever to set in. He'd grow weaker by the minute from blood lose, and then he'd start to die.

I talked to him. "Tell me about your life. Talk about something fun you've done." I put the gun to the side of his head, but didn't touch him. I wanted him to remember the good things. To have happy thoughts in the forefront of his mind.

"Jessica." He whimpered. "When Jessica came to the airfield. My daughter. I hadn't seen her since I gave her to the school in the capital. She was here three weeks ago, sixteen years old. So beautiful. So much like her mother. Her mother would have loved to have seen her. Jessica ran to me. She knew me. The school let her know who I was." His tears had stopped. His voice was slurring but he kept talking. "We… talked for hours… she was… was so happy to see me. The school said she killed six at graduation…. Six… she was going to be a great scout. She went… went to Navezgane…" I pulled the trigger. The pop startled everyone. The man slumped over lifeless, and I told myself that he had a smile on his face. Truth was that I couldn't bare to look at him.

"That was kind of you." Susan said. "He died with a warm thought on his mind."

I glared at her. "It should have been you. You brought that horde into the airfield!"

"I…" She started to retort, but silenced herself.

"You could have landed anywhere." I snarled. "We could have lost the plane, but we would have at least kept the airfield. Because of you, we've probably lost it all!" She lowered her head and I walked back to the cockpit.

Another survivor asked. "Where we headed?"

I looked back. "I'll do my supply run, and then we'll head to Airfield 4 for reassignment, if we're lucky. With all the extra weight I don't think we'll have the fuel to make it." I knocked on the door and Joe opened it. "Prep for supply drops. Toss the poor bastard's body out with the drop." Joe nodded and walked out. I looked at Samantha as I strapped into the pilot's seat.

Samantha exhaled. "I've been radioing the tower. No one is answering. Hopefully they're too busy fighting. Worst case, they're all dead." She lowered her eyes in thought. "This is the fourth airfield we've lost since I've been a co-pilot."

I grabbed the flight wheel and set the course corrections based on speed and fuel. "She's going to have to answer for this."

"You can't blame her. She's just a pilot."

"She landed knowing that her cargo hold was full of infected people who had certainly turned. Damn it, how did they even manage to let one of them on the plane if they were sick?"

Samantha added, "she picked them up in Cuba and brought them here. We were going to fly out to the Capital after refueling. I was supposed to swap out and fly copilot with her. Jesus… if they hadn't turned so soon, I could have been on that plane."

"The capital?" I asked. "The plane was going to the capital, and tonight is a blood moon. You would have landed with an even more ferocious base destroying horde. And how did none of the other people on the plane not know about the infected person. There would have been signs… they should have known that someone was about to turn."

Samantha looked at me. "You think something was up? That the survivors in Cuba did this on purpose?"

"Why were they going to the Capital?" I asked.

"Only the elders know."

We flew into Zone A14 and I began my supply run. Once I reached Zone A14 my radio chirped. "You are a sight for sore eyes! Who are you, you beautiful set of wings?" I knew that voice, it was Snake. I had to talk fast, or we would no longer be in range to communicate.

"Pilot Ron Jordan. Supply run 73-6.10. A horde hit Airfield #6 the moment we took off. We've lost all contact with the tower there. They were understaffed and didn't have enough manpower to hold off the dead… the blood moon is fueling them again. We are redirecting to Airfield #4 after dropping off supplies to field scouts and above ground survivor-outcasts."

~"Good luck, Ron. And thanks for everything."

"Stay sharp, scout. I hope the next supply drop will have something you and your outcast friend can use. If you ever get the chance to talk to Z… shake his hand for me. 73-6.10 out." Within moments the strength of Snake's signal was gone.

"That snake?" Samantha asked.

"Yeah. He's been tracking that Z guy for weeks now." I continued on course and up ahead we could see a lush green island in the center of a lake.

"The hell…" Samantha gasped.

"That's Z's Island." I banked enough so that she could get a good look at the trees, the plants, and the walls defending it all. "Beautiful. Someone who can build that, needs to get the good shit. Joe, pick a good drop for him. We'll put it as close to the shore as I can."

~"Package away!" Joe shouted into the headset. "Hopefully he can use that stuff. Can't we land nearby and just ask to stay with him?" Joe laughed.

We cruised on for nearly an hour after dropping off our last two supply crates for outcasts and survivors. With only fumes left in the gas tank Airfield #4 was in my sights. "Throttle back for landing."

"Engine two is puttering." Samantha added. "She's going out."

"Turn two off, we'll put the rest of the fuel into one."

"Line is off. We're getting some chop."

"Compensating… damn, this will be rough."

Samantha laughed. "You got us here. That alone was a miracle." She tripped on her radio. "Tower, Tower, this is supply run 73-6.10 out of Airfield 6, requesting permission to land. Crew manifest is, plus six… um, I mean 5."

~"Reading you loud and clear, 73-6.10, you're the last bird in the air. Runway is clear for your landing. The scout lines are buzzing with rumors about Airfield 6. We think you're the only bird that got out. Once you're down, the Chief wants to talk to you and all hands on board."

"Copy that." Samantha answered. She looked at me. "Out of the horde, and into a ferals nest."

I agreed, and landed my Bertha perfectly at Airfield #4.

# # # # #

Note: The last few chapters have been longer than I wanted, but I had to get the details in the story just right. I'll try to keep them shorter from here on out.  
Thanks for reading a showing your support, it is greatly appreciated.

And if you have not watched Z-Nations FFS video Series "The Island", I strongly recommend heading over to youtube and watching it. This story is based on the events surrounding that series.

~SoulGuard


	11. We Surviving Few

**We Surviving Few**

Scout: Ghost  
Days: 48

"Hey." I waved as Tank approached me with a caution I'd rarely seen of him. It had been a long day of clearing the dead out of my town. The last Blood Moon brought fresh corpses to my otherwise quiet area, and it was time to get ready for the next Blood Moon, so it was very surprising to see Tank so soon. Looking at him approach me however, was making me jittery. Could it be the way he was holding his shotgun, low but at the ready? Or perhaps his constant checking over his shoulder, as if he were expecting something, or someone? The dead never worried Tank. He lost his fear of them years ago, a fear that most people would embrace because fear kept you alive, but not Tank.

"Hey." He simply replied while still slowly approaching me. Too slowly.

"You, … okay…" I dropped my blood stained knife that I had used to scour the dead, and pulled up my pistol from the holster on my hip. I took aim.

"What?" He looked around, thinking maybe I saw one of the dead getting too close. Then he realized I was aiming at him. "Oh."

I glared at him. "Something's off, pops."

"Haven't heard that in a long time." He said with a smile. He stopped walking at about fifteen paces from me. He knew not to get too close. "You still have ammo for that after last night? Doubt you've been back to your base to restock." He raised his hand and took them off the hilt of his shotgun.

"One clip. Enough to defend myself."

"I just want to talk." He pleaded.

"You're off!" I yelled. "Just… back off. Fuck! Tank, what the fuck are you doing?"

"Tell me what happened in Navezgane." With his arms high, he took the gun off his shoulder and tossed it to the side. He even tossed the pistol he kept hidden under his hip belt. "There's some strange stuff going on around here. I just wanna make sure you're not too deep in this. I was talking to Snake yesterday..."

"Who?"

"You don't know him. Anyway, he's talked with the old man… Navezgane and Tina were mentioned."

"The old fool still chasing after me?" I glared at Tank and then looked around to make sure we were alone.

"You?" Tank said it in a way that I knew he didn't know what was going on.

"Yeah. He wanted my report on Navezgane, I told him to kiss my ass and I left. Tina is his last daughter. She wanted out, and to be away from him and his fans back at the Capital. You want to know the truth?"

"Yeah, cause Snake told me some things that have me a bit paranoid."

"We found some real evidence that the White River Settlement is real. Tina was beyond excited and wanted to stay." I lowered my pistol and sat on a nearby boulder. I looked out over the grassy field to make sure there was nothing else moving in town, and was happy to see that it was void of movement, at least for now. I was still weary of checking a few of the nearby storefronts, but it would have to wait. I didn't want Tank to act like this around me, he deserved answers but my fear was that he would betray my honesty. "The old man forbid Tina to go, but she's a scout. She graduated just like the rest of us, and she was willing to anything to get away from that asshole. So we loaded up and left. Took the old man a few weeks to realize Tina was with me. Guess he's gone looking for her.

"Now you tell me why you're so paranoid about this?"

"Z. We think Z may be a member of the White River." Tank lowered his arms finally, and rested them on his belt. I kept my eyes on him, just to be sure.

"People keep talking about him. He really that great?"

"Only snake knows for certain, but i've seen what he built. It's impressive. It gives you hope."

I laughed at that. "I only get hope when I see a Zed dead." I looked at him. "Why the nervous approach? Walking toward me as if I have a trap for you, or like you're afraid of me?"

"The old man, he has a tendency to get what he wants. I thought… I was afraid you were actually working for him. He sent you to Navezgane. It was by his orders that you got to go on that little adventure. I didn't know Tina wasn't part of the deal. I was afraid that... maybe if I asked the wrong questions, you'd have actually killed me."

I slid off the rock and ran to Tank. I threw my arms around his waist and squeezed. "I don't think I could do that."

He rubbed my head, and hugged me. "You did aim at me."

"Scare tactic. Shooting you would be like shooting my dad." I exhaled, happy, content, and I felt safe in his arms. Things were starting to get too emotional, so I fought back the tears and smiled up at his towering face. "You wanna have sex?"

He laughed deep and loud. "I know we joke about that, but don't think I'd feel right sleeping with you. You're, well… like my daughter." I smiled back at him. It was one of those things we both knew, but until today we had never said it. Tank was the only thing in this world that felt like family to me, and having him as a father figure was the only great joy in my life. Well, that and my sniper rifle. Still, I felt there was something else.

I laughed, "can I call you dad?"

"Jesus." He sarcastically groaned, and rolled his eyes.

"Is that a no?" We gathered up our gear and began walking toward my safehouse.

"Yes. Don't call me dad." He punched me in the arm. "So since you aren't sharing details with the old man, he's gone looking for Tina himself, and the White River. But that doesn't answer the questions about Z. Maybe Snake will find out something."

I lowered my head as I climbed up the ladder to my rooftop. "I… lied. Tina… she did find the White River. But you can't tell anyone! If people knew..."

"They're real?"

"Yes. Tina stayed to learn from them, but since I didn't stay they wouldn't talk to me. I did some trading for parts but no one talked to me. They talked to Tina, once she decided to stay." I climbed up to the roof and looked out over town as Tank followed. "They even gave her a prothetic… prostetic… a fake foot."

"This… this is huge!" Tank sat down near my campfire as I sealed the hatch behind us. "After the next Blood Moon I have to go talk to Snake... "

"No!" I kicked him. "No one! They'll ask all sorts of questions that I can't answer."

"But if Z is connected to them…"

"Questions like that! I don't know anything about Z. I don't know if he's connected to anything. And what would it matter? Seriously, if Z is a member of the White River Settlement, what would it change?"

"He would have connections to a group of people who promise safety!" He was pacing now. His mind racing with thoughts. I'd never seen him this worked up. This excited. "All those notes we find, all those promises of safety to the strong. There would be a settlement that is better than the old man and the elders, and the capital!"

I didn't really care. I was born to kill the dead, to carve out my own little patch of safety and hopefully bring a little hope to the world, but having childhood dreams and then seeing reality; it has a way of changing your mind. "So we exchange one group of leaders for another?"

Tank shook his head. "I was born during the great fire. I remember when it was finally safe to come back to the surface. When we first saw the dead. This has been my life, but my parents… they told me what it was like. The world before. The white river settlement, they've survived above ground since the beginning. They have the knowledge to build a better world… damn…" Tank was looking out over town as he picked up his gun and walked to the edge of the building. "Horde."

A roaming horde was trekking through the heart of town, and heading directly toward my shelter. "We can lay low and they'll go passed…" But then I saw why Tank cursed. "A feral. He smells us. Damn it."

"Yeah, he's got the whole lot of them following him. You get the feral, I'll deal with the horde. Spare some shotguns rounds?"

"Check the chest." Tank walked over to my ammo chest and grabbed what he needed. He started down the ladder while I prepped my sniper. I braced it on the edge of the building, aimed at the Feral's freakish face, and held my breath. I waited till the dead was on level ground and then I squeezed the trigger. My sniper balked just loud enough for me to hear it, and the kick back let me know that the bullet flew. Seeing the Feral's head explode was blissful. Tank was charging into the fray, there were at least thirty of the dead. He was so close to the Feral when I killed it, that the creature's body nearly fell on him. From the safety of my rooftop I gave tank some cover fire. I killed a few of the dead who wandered too close to him, and some of the grotesque spitters that lingered in the background.

Tank, however, was showing me once again how he got his name. He would lure them together, and take their heads off when they were close enough; his shotgun would bark and kill two or three of the dead with each trigger pull. Then, when he needed to reload, he smashed several of their heads in with an iron club as he backed away to relative safety. A dead woman managed to survive Tank's carnage and while I was reloading she lunged on top of him. Tank seemed unphased as the woman tried to gnaw on his shoulder. His armor held up to such a pitiful attempt. After he reloaded his gun, he grabbed the woman by the hair, threw her to the ground and smashed her head in with the heel of his boots.

After it was all over, he climbed back to the top of my shelter completely covered in blood and guts. He took his helmet off and took a sip of water. It was a hot day, and even though his armor was somewhat cooling underneath, it was still hot within. He leaned against the wall and began to clean the fragments of flesh from his helmet; tossing bits of flesh and bone off the side of the roof.

I cradled my sniper and began to clean off the bullet dust that had settled upon it. "So, is there a special lady in your life, dad?"

Tank smirked. "You'll hate her. And no, you don't have to call her mom." He laughed.


	12. Tank

**Tank**

Scout: Tank  
Days: 14,020

"Tank!" Said the young guard stationed with me at my bunker. He greeted me with a head nod as I parked my minibike beside the stone wall. I could tell that there was an unusual amount of tension, as he was standing perfectly erect at his post beside the bunker door. He never stood that formally unless someone important had once again stopped by.

"Company?" I asked.

"Yup. The old man. Got here about six hours ago."

I exhaled and readied myself. "Why don't you go for a walk around the area. Make sure nothing's moving around. Get a bunny or two while you're out. Stocks are low."

"Okay." He seemed relieved to be leaving. "Did you go see Ghost?"

"Questions." I glared at him. He laughed and walked off. I cranked open the dense steel vault door, spinning the wheel to unlock it. The door groaned as I pulled it outward. I walked inside and sealed it behind me. As I walked down the stairs the air became thick and smokey. The old man knew I hated it when he lit those smoke sticks in my bunker.

"Ah! Tank… you're back." He said as I walked into my main floor. A thick cloud of smoke left his dark lips. He was sitting in a dark corner, made even darker by his black presence. Doctor Setra was sitting cross legged in a seat beside the old man. Her worn and torn army fatigues sat loosely on her slender form. She had left to go with the old man to Navezgane. She smiled at me when I walked in. The old man spat before I could say hello to her. "So, there is a Blood Moon in two days, and you've been gone all day. Off gathering supplies?"

"No, sir." I said bluntly. I turned my attention to Setra. "How was the trip?"

The old man answered for her. "Not as rewarding as we'd have liked. I lost a man to the Diresviles dogs… he was following some information that Tina was there. We found him walking about with a hole in his neck. Tiffany, here," he pointed to his other guard, "she finished him off. He was a good man. Not the first i've lost, but a good man."

"Cipher." I nodded to the guard. "Good to see you alive."

"You too, Tank." She simply replied.

"You kids and your Scout names." The old man took a long pull on his smoke stick. Exhaled the dark cloud and coughed.

"Sir, please don't use that in my bunker. The air in the world is bad enough, don't you think?"

He smiled at me. "I got impatient. Being here so long." He stood and walked across the room to me. "Being on the surface made me realize that I'm not as young as I feel. So, first and foremost, I'll be taking Setra back to the capital with me."

"What?" She vaulted out of her seat. "You never asked…"

He waved her off. "I don't have to ask, my dear. I assigned you here. This is the safest check-in, bunker… place, in the area. But, after not finding my Tina, I've decided that I'm not going to risk another of my children to this world. You're coming home with me, end of discussion."

Setra roared, the blood in her veins painted her light skinned forehead in fury. "Tina left because of you! Don't punish me for your inability to keep her! And if you had cared so much, you wouldn't have let her Graduate! You made me skip it, you could have made her skip it!"

The old man seemed unaffected. "We'll discuss it later."

As an elder, the old man had rights and privileges not given to us younger survivors. The old man fathered kids with any woman who was willing, and in the old days before we survivors returned to the surface, women knew their role was to help repopulate the Earth. The old man was considered very high on the gene ladder; he was healthy, smart, strong, and had a prolonged life. Good qualities to pass on to a generation of scouts. Sadly, his reach extended too far, and all of his kids either hated him, ran from his reach, or died trying. Setra was the one exception. She was smart, smart beyond our understanding. She read books for joy, learned medicine just by experimenting on animals, and used her father's influence to continue to learn. Her brain kept her out of Scout training, but it also made her invaluable in the field. Losing her to the capital was going to be a huge loss to my Zone.

Over time things changed, and women stopped giving themselves to the elders simply for child rearing. It was painfully obvious that some of the elders abused their roles and simply lavished at picking women simply for pleasure. As the young became old enough to pick their own partners, the rules changed. Pregnant scouts were more common place, and allowed to return to the capital to give birth and raise their young, and eventually enter the Scout program.

"Secondly," the old man continued, "I will need to stay here for the next Blood Moon. I want that information from Snake about Z's location. When he returns for his next check-in, I intend to be here. AFter I get my information, I'll kindly leave your base and take my entourage with me. Including my daughter. And by the way, Tank, a man of your skill needs to father some young. You two would do just fine to make some children together. Her brains, your instincts and skill… you'd make excellent scouts for the future."

Setra fumed. "Hard for us to do that if you're forcing me back to the Capital."

The old man laughed. "It only takes a minute, child. Fuck and get it over with. You've got a few days. It would be nice to be a grandfather before I die." With that he walked deeper into the bunker with Cipher at his heels.

"I'm not leaving." Setra snapped as he walked away.

"Didn't know he was your father." I quipped, hoping to lighten the heavy aura.

"Father's raise their children. That man just happened to sleep with my mother and I was the result." She sat on the dusty couch and fumed.

I walked closer and sat next to her. "So, Ghost's friend, Tina, is your sister?"

"Different mother." She leaned into my arms and released a heavy sigh. Her tense shoulder relaxed and her mood softened. "Tina was supposed to be a whole new generation of scouts. Aggressive, smart, fast, strong. Sadly, when the old man found out she was girl, he lost all interest. He wanted boys. Always boys. Boys are strong, naturally, faster than girls and all that bull… when she Graduated and lived, he was surprised. Bastard never gave her a chance."

He ran man hand over her hair and played with the curls. "Why is he looking for her if he thinks of her so poorly?"

"Procreation." Setra chuckled. "Old fool… he thinks she'll be able to pass on her genetics. He wants to make sure she sleeps with the right guy." She looked up at me with her dark eyes. "Same thing he's doing with me. Hoping I meet the right guy."

I kissed her, full on the lips. I pulled back and looked at her lovingly. "I want you to meet Ghost again. She's grown a lot since last time."

"Tank…" she pulled away and walked around the room. "That girl…"

"I know. I know. She's… a handful."

Setra paused walking and looked at me. "She killed her team… her friend..."

"We don't know what really happened, and I believe what she said. Self defense."

"That girl should not have gone with them to collect supplies. Sierra, was it? She didn't fight during graduation… I didn't have to, but I know the rules. She washed out. She was assigned to surface labor. Why then, Tank? Why was Sierra with Ghost's team on a loot run?"

"She wanted more experience fighting the dead." I said softly. Setra wouldn't understand. She spent all of her life in safety, never having to face the dead on her own. For someone to live in this world, they had to know how to fight the dead. Sierra, according to Ghost, was one of those girls who simply got by without learning to fight. "Ghost gave her a chance, and the girl panicked, tried to steal Ghost's weapon… and the rest is history. Our gear keeps us alive, Setra. Sierra was trying to run away with Ghost's pride and joy. It ended badly."

"And the two men on her scout team that tried to stop Ghost?" Setra glared at me with a questioning expression.

I said the answer that made perfect sense to me. "They chose the wrong side of the scuffle."

Setra smirked. "She murdered them to cover up her tracks."

Setra and Ghost didn't understand each other. They met the night I found Ghost stranded in a tree, surrounded by a roaming horde, with nothing but an empty pistol and a knife. Ghost, despite being bitten, clawed, and bruised, had survived several hours in that tree and had killed at least twenty of the dead. After I killed the remainder, the poor girl blacked out from the fever, and fell out of the tree. I shoved an antibiotic down her throat, and dragged her back to my bunker. Setra patched her up and kept her from becoming one of the dead. Exhausted, hungry and confused, Ghost thanked Petra's hard work by giving her a black eye when she woke up. That set the tone for their relationship. The event with Sierra and her team happened a few days later.

Setra looked at me as she knelt down at the side of the couch. "You care for her that much? Why? What do you really know of her?"

"I know that she's all alone. And I'm all that she's got."

Setra kissed me. "Your heart's too big for her. Okay. After the blood moon… we'll give it another shot."


	13. Butterfly

**Butterfly**

"He still hasn't checked in? Where is he?"

"How am I supposed to know, sir?"

"Find him! He has to know more about Z. Find him!"

"Tank sent men to investigate, but we don't know where to start. His Zone is relatively uncharted. He left out a lot of details from his map..."

"You are giving me nothing but excuses, Cipher! Has he betrayed us?"

"Sir… how am I supposed to know? He could be doing his job, he could be dead, he could have betrayed us and joined Z, or he left."

"He joined Z. I know he did. That goddamned scout has turned his allegiance for the White River! Kill him! Find him and Kill him!"

"Sir… calm down. Your heart can't take the strain…"

"I want him dead! You hear me? Find him. Kill him. Bring me all of his information… *coughing*"

"Sit. Drink this tea and calm yourself. Think clearly."

"Thank you. Thank you, Cipher. Good tea. Get Setra in here. But first… yes, I have plan. Yes. She'll do nicely. Send word to Ghost. She's a killer. She'll find Z and kill them both. I know she will. Then we'll have Snake and his notes."

"I'll talk to her check in. I'll tell her to find our missing scout."

"No! Tell her to kill Z and Snake and bring me..."

"Sir. Trust me. You don't order a Scout to kill another Scout without justification. Also, if Tank found out you ordered her to do something like this he'll kill you, and frankly, you don't want to be on Tank's bad side."

"He wouldn't dare!"

"Sir, he loves that girl like a father loves a daughter. He would and we couldn't stop him."

"You mean you wouldn't stop him. Very well, you handle this. Ghost is the best Scout in range of Snake and Z's zone. She'll get the job done. We need that Island. We must find it! We're running out of time."

"I know, Sir."

 **. . . . . .**

 **Scout: Ghost  
Days: 53**

When I first took this job, I had a feeling it would end in blood. Z's name has carried a bit of warning from the higher ups, he was off limits to only Snake, and if we ever encountered him we were told to avoid, run, do not fight him, and never talk to him. Yet after all of this time watching him, studying him, I can't help but admire him. I feel like every morning I wake up he has added a completely new addition to his already impressive Island. Island? I should probably start calling it an Oasis with a wall. Or perhaps a Utopia in Hell.

I stood from my dusty pile of grass and dirt, folded my camouflage gear and stuffed it into my bag. Z hadn't shown his head in a few hours, and it was clear that he had retreated to his underground. He typically vanished for hours without coming out of his base. I had been watching his exit and had not seen him leave so he had to be still in the base, working his miracles.

~ "Scout, do you copy? He's in the city again. Used his tunnel."

"Tunnel? To the City? That's impressive." That explained a hell of a lot, and I could have used that information days ago, instead of wasting my time staring at Z's empty base..

~ "The last scout went into his base while Z was in the city. You should too. I'll contact you when Z is on his way back."

"No. Give me the coordinates to his tunnel" I ran. The city was a good 3 hours away by foot, but I figured I could cut that down to 2 if I didn't stop and paced myself. I got there just after 1000 hours. I climbed the hill above Zs tunnel entrance, dug a hole to bury my gear, shouldered my sniper rifle and a satchel of rounds, and ran into town when Z was in the distance.

I climbed into a building several blocks from where Z was. I barricaded the door behind me and watched through my sniper scope as Z worked tireless stripping vehicles for parts. He kept working into dusk, and when the dead came running he fought them all and didn't give up his ground; the spitters, the ferals, and the dogs. He was meticulous in his devastation of the dead. I smiled at the destruction of their flesh and bones, and silently cheered to myself as each body hit the ground.

The barricade behind me clattered and a feral burst into the room with me. It wasn't after me, but it was stirred by Zs gunshots in the distance; it saw me none the less. He lunged for me, mouth open, and I put the barrel of my sniper between his teeth and sent four near silent rounds out the back of its head. The creature stumbled backwards, grasping at its head as if felt pain. I had never seen a feral act like that, but then this was the closest I'd ever been to one. When it finally composed itself, it looked toward me, and emitted a low gurgling roar out of the hole in the back of it's head. The wound was just below the base of the skull; I had missed the brain. It staggered toward me, slowed from the damage I had dealt it, and I was able to knock it backwards with a well placed heel to its midsection. With that separation I was able to level my sniper once again and sent a round through its forehead. The feral's head came completely off. The body fell with a thud to the floor. I fixed the barricade, and continued to watch Z clean up the town. He was using a combination of spike traps and well placed weapons rounds as he ran about the street, killing at his leisure. A few hours later, the sun rose and dawn filled my eyes. Z was still killing the dead as the sun swept across them, ending their fever induced burst of speed. Now that they were walking, it was only a matter of time before Z would clear the city of the local infestation. He fought all night, relentless, and nearly unharmed. Surviving a full night, freely running the streets as the dead swarmed, is a maneuver left for desperation because you couldn't get to shelter. But Z seemed to be doing it just for sport.

I unclipped my flask and toasted the sun. "My soul still takes breath." As Z continued to fight in the distance, I once again pondered who this man was, "Are you an Outcast or are you a Volunteer?"


	14. Lines in the Sand

**Lines in the Sand**

Scout: Ghost  
Days: 55

~"Take the Island! Do it now! Do you understand me? Kill Z and take the Isla-"

I hung up on my check-in. My lifeline to the fortress, to my airdrops, the Capital, and any chances of getting extra aid. They don't understand. None of them do. Each day his tower grows taller. Each day he plants and harvests more and more resources. I'm beginning to understand why the last scout didn't do as he was ordered, if he's alive. Shy of having a meat farm, Z is building a sustainable establishment in this world. I have to talk to him. I have to talk to Z. No more lurking in the shadows.

I grab a torch and begin to walk toward the bridge that Z had been spending hours building. A bridge that would connect his island to the mainland of the Zone. That would be my marker. A lone torch in the night left at his bridge, telling Z that someone had been there. I'd watch him from the distance and determine his reaction to the torch, and then speak to him from a safe distance. Tonight would be the night.

I took steps out of my temporary base dug deep beneath the sand and my radio chirped 6 times. It was Tank. I slipped it off my belt and before I could say anything, his voice cut through the speaker.

~"Ghost! Copy! it's Tank! The base! They're sending a team toward you and the Island. You're in danger! They're tired of waiting! Watch your ass!"

"Thanks, Tank. I owe you one." Time's up. Seems I've made the council a little mad. My meeting with Z will have to wait. I tossed the torch and slipped on my grass covered camouflage. I didn't have much information, but if they were coming for me and Z, they most likely would start with Z Island. Did they know the location? How much of this Zone did they know? "Damn you old man." I cursed silently.

I walked towards a hilly tundra with an excellent line of sight in all directions. Z's island was several miles East, and my temporary bunker was to the south. Tanks base was west of my location, and that meant they would have to cross this terrain to find me and the lake where Z's island was located. I dug a grave in an elevated area of the soft field to hide myself from the nightly running of the dead, and to have a hidden shooting area. I plucked several bags of grass and began weaving them into my camouflage to thicken it and to match the terrain. Then I weaved a grass tarp to cover my grave. As the sun set I slide a pallet of wood over my grave and covered it with my grass tarp. I slid into the grave and adjusted the covering over my head to keep any wondering zeds from falling in on top of me. With a small gap on all sides of the grave, I could look out over the terrain just by lifting the wood a few inches, but at night it would serve as my only line of protection.

I slipped my knife from my holster, and laid my sniper down in the dirt below my feet. When the sun set, the world was filled with the cries of the nightly insects.

Throughout the night only one stumbling zed ever came within range of my grave. I took a moment to take a five minute sleep. I awoke alert and ready. I toasted the sun with a warm glass of water, and lifted one edge of my grave's makeshift lid.

In the distance, walking in a spread out group, were four men. I knew these Scouts. They were all from neighboring zones, and each one had been to my rooftop to feed on my kills not too long ago. I edged my sniper out of the edge of the grave, being sure that no zeds were nearby, and took aim. I pulled the radio from hip and broadcasted.

"Paul, stop! I want you to think about something before you come any closer. Remember Willy? Remember Joel? They left. They left because they don't trust the council or the capital." They stopped walking and held their guns at the ready, looking around to find me.

~"We have our orders, Ghost. That Island could help rebuild the world."

I spoke to Paul, knowing he was the most level headed of the group. "I recall they said that Navezgane would save the world. I've been there. It's full of zeds and dogs. The farm and the city has been long abandoned. It's pretty far from here, 6 days by car, but you can make it. Go see for yourself."

~"What do you want us to do, Ghost? We're running low on food and antibiotics, the capital can't sustain itself much longer. We need that Island."

I took notice that Paul was making eye contact with the other guys. He was motioning for them to stand still. I scanned the group, and good old Rob was looking eager to move forward, shaking his head as if he didn't believe I was serious.

I took aim. "Even if that's true, Z built that Island by himself. We can learn from him. Imagine what we can do if we all build together. I'm sure…" Rob made a run for it. Not to hide, no, he was running with the intent to find me. He was looking around, aiming at anything that moved. was also starting to leave the group. I put a bullet through Rob's head from 400 yards and watched him slump lifeless into the grass. I then took aim on Kevin. "Told you not to come any closer. Tell Kevin to take a step back, or he's next."

~"Fuck! Ghost! What the hell is wrong with you?"

I could read Kevin's mouth as he was talking to them off radio. He had said, "she didn't even give him a warning shot. She's going to kill us all. She's fucking insane." He was half right. I was going to kill them all, but only if they made me. However, I was not insane.

I said on the line. "Tell Kevin to calm down. Don't do anything stupid, and you can all go home."

~"... Ghost… there won't be a home to go back to. We need to… talk… to Z. Just let us talk to him."

I snorted a laugh and made sure Paul and Kevin could hear me over the radio. "I'm sure the old man sent you here to talk. Besides, that was my suggestion before I shot Rob. And now here we are. You taking me seriously and me, wondering if I can trust you. So this is your choice… start talking or turn around and head back. Continue to walk in your current direction, and i'll drop each and every one of you."


	15. The Devil's Pit

**The Devil's Pit**

Scout: Ghost  
Days: 56

~"We're going to dig in for safety, Ghost. Can you at least let us do that?"

I knew why they wanted to dig, the question was should I let them? It wouldn't be impossible for them to attempt digging a trench out of that valley and escaping my line of sight, but if they were that desperate to get away, they wouldn't be a threat to me. Not only would they still need to find me, I would see them before they saw me.

"Go on. Dig. Kill drops or…"

~"Devil's Pit. No time to do dig anything else."

"Wise." I smirked. I had planned to do the same thing. The only weakness in the Devil's Pit was it's ability to get full, fast, and you could accidentally fall in it yourself or be dragged in by an outstretched arm. However, it was a defensive hole that you could dig really fast and the dead were too dumb to avoid it; shallow enough that they wouldn't walk around it, but deep enough that they couldn't jump out… till it got full. Thankfully, my grave was a perfect template to begin a Devil's Pit. I could dig it out fully in 2 hours, but I had to keep my eyes on the boys.

~"Come fight with us. It'll increase our chances."

I ignored him, grabbed my shovel and began to move dirt as quickly as I could without disturbing the tarp over me. Once I had the hole deep enough to stand, I began working side to side. Digging out the loose soil. I climbed up and took a look at the other Scouts as they began to prep their defenses: clubs, spears, guns and torches lined the perimeter. It made me wonder when the last time these guys had fought out-in-the-open. They dug six Devil's Pits, in a 2x3 grid, equal distances apart. Then they began tossing fuel into the bottom of the pits. They were going to make it wasteful firepit once it was full. Fuel was costly, and too valuable to waste this way.

I dug one pit. I only needed one, and when it becomes full, I'll give the dead a healthy dose of my stamina. I took a visual account of the nearest trees and picked the best one with good footholds.

~"Blood moon in 5 minutes, Ghost. We can go to Z and fight with him."

"HA! I doubt he needs our help."

~"Maybe we need his! Damn it, Ghost!" Paul sounded a little concerned on the radio. I looked through my sniper scope to get a better view of him in the low light. His head was on a swivel, his finger was on the trigger of his gun. He was scared. They were all scared. I wasn't happy about being exposed and out in the open, but I at least knew that I had my fears in check. These guys, they were giving scouts a bad name.

I rolled over, being sure to keep my camouflage of grass and twigs intact, and zoomed in on the bridge Z was building across the lake. A bridge was inviting. A bridge ment he would welcome travelers, or was he trying to make it easier for himself to get to his Island? A mystery. I turned back over and zoomed in on the 6 men standing in the open field as they were giving their pits a final pass over.

"Turn back west. It's been a long time since we've worked together, Paul. My trust in you is long gone." I dropped the radio, slowly slid my grave's covering to the side and finished digging my pit. It was now too dark for them to see me, and I could no longer see them. It was now all about the dead. It was time to do what I was trained to do.

~"But you'll trust Z? You haven't even talked to him, have you? The council told us about him, Ghost. He's not who you think he is. We should go to the Island and all talk..." The blood moon scream echoed across the land. The fury of the moon was now driving the dead, increasing their vision, their smell, and their speed.

"We'll finish this when the sun rises. Good luck, boys." I rolled over, and could see the mass sprinting toward me. I climbed out of the pit. It took some energy, and that meant the dead couldn't get out of it without some help. I lit one torch and tossed it out into the field, and I grabbed my spike club. The other boys would certainly see my flames, but they wouldn't bother coming after me. Not now. The dead were sprinting at me from the west, so I put the Devil's pit between me and them. Gunshots sounded in the distance, from Z's Island and the boys in the valley. Everyone was fighting. All the survivors in the area where defending themselves; and everyone was hoping to see another dawn.

The dogs arrived first. Their growls gave away their position before I even saw them. Two dogs jumped across the pit easily. As expected. I cracked one of them over the head before it landed, lodging one of my my spikes into its skull. The second dog turned on me as I ripped my club free from the dead dog. The other dog bit at my leg, getting mostly my armor and some tuft of grass from my covering. I brought my club down on it's head and killed it with one blow. I looked up as several of the dead began falling into the pit. So far so good.

More and more began to fall in, piling up on the dead already laying at the bottom. It was filling fast and soon they were not falling into it, but simply running across the ones that lay in the pit. The sound of snapping bones and crushed skulls filled the air. The living dead were trampling over their own, killing their own and saving me the trouble of doing it; with the added advantage of slowing down the dead that were running toward me.

I stepped forward and began hitting the stumbling runners over the head. Each dead zed made yet another obstacle for the living dead to stumble over. I would kill two and then step back, kill three and then step back; always on the retreat. This continued for several minutes, until the horde began to migrate around their fallen kin. It wasn't out of intelligence that they did this, it was merely an act of avoiding the slower moving zeds in front of them. They shifted, and so did I.

I turned and ran up toward the tree I saw when the sun was setting. That meant running toward the horde. A spitter gurgled among the pack and I dodged instinctively. Putrid gore and acid spewed across the grass behind me. I shouldered my sniper, used the torches reflection on the horde to spot the spitter, and sent two quick rounds through it's neck and then head.

Even though the dead were sprinting, I could still easily out pace them at a fast jog. I clubbed a woman's head that got too close, and kicked out at a stumbling fat man. He fell over onto his side and he struggled to get up because of his own mass. With a jump, I came down and crushed his head with my heal. I kept moving, dodging through the horde and into random clearings where I would make a temporary stand. I had to stay close to my torch, my only source of light, otherwise I would have kept running and making them follow me in a straight line. After an hour of dodging and swinging, I climbed into the tree and made repairs to my club. I reloaded my sniper, checked my wounds, and gathered up my stamina for another push. By now the base of the tree was surrounded on all sides, and the dead reached up toward me; crying out their moans of hunger for my flesh. I climbed down cautiously, staying well above their outstretched arms and began to swing down at their heads with my club. For every zed I killed, two more filled the spot, and they began climbing on top of the dead. Their stacking continued without fail until finally I saw that the horde was thinning. The eastern horizon was no longer black, but instead it was a welcoming shade of blue. The night was almost over.

I thinned the horde, climbed the tree, and then killed a few more, until finally the tree began to give under the sheer weight of the horde leaning against it. I timed my jump, spotted a clearing, and when the tree finally gave away I pushed off. I landed with a roll, all the air escaped my lungs and I struggled to stand. I pushed upward, resisting the urge of my body wanting to slump over, and staggered toward the clearing away from the horde. They were still running, but I could not. I leveled my sniper, backing toward my Devil's pit, and fired as I went. My aim was only partially true, I missed more often than I hit, but at this point I had to only outlast them. They would start walking soon. I only needed to slow them down one more time. My lungs finally took a deep breath without pain, and I turned toward the pit and jumped over it. Arms extended upward in an attempt to grab me, as the surviving dead in the pile clawed to get free from the dead that covered them. Those same arms grabbed at anything that moved over them, including their fellow zeds.

Blinded by gore and guts of the crushed limbs on top of them, the arms reaching out of the Devil's Pit grabbed at passing legs and pulled anything that moved near their grasp. The dead were stopped, tripped, dragged, and pulled apart by their own kind. I walked over and began disposing of the dead who were still mobile, and then they began to walk as the sun rose above the horizon. I took a step back and exhaled in exhaustion.

Several gunshots rang out in the distance, telling me that at least someone else survived. I took several deep breaths and began to mow down the last of the standing dead. Then I focused on the dead who crawled out of the Devil's Pit with torn bodies and broken limbs. With the movers finished, I picked up my spear and began stabbing into the Devil's Pit; a now swampy gore filled hole of outreached arms waving about while filling the air with gurgled moans.

Another day. I lived to see another day.


	16. Food over Trust

**Food over Trust**

Scout: Ghost  
Days: 57

Through my sniper scope I could see the fallout of the boy's night. Their pits were full and they lost two men to the onslaught. I walked up to them cautiously, making sure my presence wasn't detected until I had the upper hand.

"Still alive?" I placed the barrel of my sniper to Kevin's temple. He stood up; slowly.

"Yeah. Paul, Rob and Joe… aren't." He ignored my barrel and glared at me. "You killed Rob for that guy?"

"I killed Rob because…"

"Save it." He knelt over and began to collect his gear.

The night was long, exhausting, and bloody. Gun fire rang across the countryside; from Z's island and our own weapons. I ran to join the other scouts after it was over. Paul had been pulled apart. Joe was bitten, didn't take an antibiotic in time, and bleed to death. He fought until he had no fight left. Kevin walked over to his body as it began to stir. He stabbed Joe in the back of the head with a spear. The other two men were setting their pits on fire. Thick wretched smoke filled the air and I walked away from the flames. While Kevin hovered over Joe's dead body, the other two men dragged bodies to the fires. A wasteful use of energy and resources, but it didn't affect me. Better to simply bury them in loose dirt and let the Earth reclaim them.

Surveying their battleground told more of their struggle. The boys had been clearly surrounded on all sides, and chose to stick together to make their stand. Once the Devil's Pits were full, they began making walls of bodies to slow down the dead, and the horde continued to add to that wall. It grew taller and taller with each of the dead they killed, till eventually it was mountain of corpses ten feet high on three sides of their pits. The dead scaled the mountain and when they reached the top the were killed by arrows, spears, bullets or clubs.

I walked closer to Kevin and nodded toward the sun as the others approached us.

"Drink with me." I said to the remaining 3 men, being sure to keep my sniper and pistol at the ready.

The other scout who survived spat toward me. "The hell we will!"

Kevin corrected him. "Easy, Boss. You don't have to drink with her. I will." He walked to my side and we climbed out of the pit, scaling over the gagging smell of rotting flesh. As we looked to the East, I raised a beer from my backpack. Kevin did the same.

"My soul still takes breath." We said together, toasted the rising sun, and took a drink. I looked at Kevin but he didn't look back at me. "I'm sorry. If you see the Island you'll understand."

"I'm sorry, too." He said plainly. I shouldn't have turned my back on the other two scouts. Darkness and pain consumed me.

# # # # # # # #

"... wake her."

"I'm awake." I groaned. I was still alive. My head throbbed. My arms were tied behind my back, I was lying on the floor, and the air was stale. I opened my eyes and looked around the small room. It was a bunker of some kind. At least I was safe from the dead.

"Good. I have questions." It was an older man. A face I'd never seen before. He was black skinned and grey of hair.

"You a councilor?"

"No." He said calmly. "You were given orders to find the scout following Z. You did not. You were ordered to kill Z and take his island. You did not. Why?"

I rolled over and sat up as best I could. There were two soldiers guarding the old man. I managed to slide my arms down under my legs, bring them up in front of me and stand up in one motion. Terror seized the old man, and the two soldiers ran to his aid.

"Relax." I smiled. "If I was going to hurt you, I would have done it before I told you I was awake." I looked at the old man as the guards stood closer to him. "Why do you want him dead? We can learn from him."

"Angels and demons can't coexist." He laughed. "The council made monsters to fight for us, not to make peace."

"She shouldn't be here, sir." The woman guard said as she put her pistol back into her hip case. "If Tank finds out..."

The old man muttered, "My dear Mary, would you be so kind as to send the kid in here. You can guard this bunker more effectively than he can."

"Sir… I…"

"Orders." He glared at her. "Tank does not give commands in the field. I do."

"Yes. Sir." The woman walked by me. "The name's Cipher. It's an honor to finally meet you, Ghost."

"Out!" The old man barked. She walked out and a few seconds later a young guard came running in, looking anxiously nervous. "Now then, Sarah. Your name has become a bit of a pain in my ass lately. The fact that you killed your own, lost Tina, and still have the gall to call yourself a "Scout" surprises me. But I haven't been an active scout since the first days back on the surface, so… that being known, I would like to understand you."

"My job is to kill the dead. Pretty simple."

He chuckled. "Yet, here you are. You're in cuffs, in Tank's bunker, not doing your job. Because…"

"I don't know." I smiled.

"Orders!" He spat. "Let me remind you of their names. Samson, Tormond, Griffin, Rob and Sierra. Remember them? Of course you do. Tormond and Griffin were your first teammates. You found a note about the White River Settlement, and like every damn fool in this world, you went looking for it. What did you find? Nothing. And you killed Tormond and Griffin during your search. And poor Samson. According to the report, he was madly in love with you. That didn't end well either. You executed that poor son of a bitch. But speaking of Love, you loved Sierra, but you even killed her. You hardly new Rob, but you put a round through his head yesterday. And let's not forget about Tina, whom you let walk away from you while in Navezgane. My Tina!"

"Oh shit!" I laughed. "You're the old man! Tina's father! Well shit. Now the party can start." I sat on the floor and crossed my legs in front of me. "So… you're the man who wants Z dead? You wanted me to kill the one resource that may save us… because you're hungry?"

He stood on shaky legs, with a cane to support him. "Food drives life, my dear. Without food, everything the Capital has built will crumble. You ever seen a woman trying to find food for her children? She'll do anything. We have hundreds of people living underground and stocks are at an all time low. Scouts can't bring back enough food fast enough. Panic will eventually sweep through the Capital and that will lead to our downfall. There is enough resources in Z's base to feed us all!"

"And you know this, how?" I asked with a smirk.

"Because we know what Z is capable of. By now he has the resources we need. Snake went into the island well before the tower was built, and by now…. There has to be more."

"Maybe. But it sounds like keeping Z alive is worth it. Don't you think? Talk to him! Maybe Snake got greedy, or the dead killed him, or he's working with Z."

He smiled at me. "Angels and Demons, Ghost. He won't help us. He can't voluntarily help us."

"We can talk… we can trade with him…"

"Like the White River Settlement?" He smirked and paced around me, his cane echoing around the room with each step. "How well did that work out?"

"Fuck you." I snapped. He caught me off guard and I bit my lips to regain my calm. Too late, he had already found my button.

"Poor Griffin and Tormond. You see, Ghost. This is what happens when you go looking for the White River Settlement. People die. Good strong scouts, die. They fucking die and all that training we invested in them is useless!" He staggered back to his seat with the guards. "As for Z, he's a completely different monster all together." He waved to the guard to pass him a radio sitting on a table in a darkened corner. The older guard gave it to him without taking his eyes off me.

The old man adjusted the channel. "Kevin. Take your team and sneak into the Island. If you get a chance, kill Z."

A few seconds later the lined opened up.

~"Sir… I have a problem with simply killing him if he's not aggressive toward us."

I smiled. At least Kevin hadn't turned stupid in the days since we left capital.

"Listen to me, Scout! Your orders are to take that Island, no matter what!"

~"Z is a survivor in this world, Sir. I won't kill him tell I know he's a threat. And he has a welcome sign to his island. We may not need to fight."

"We made you to fight! You can't trust Z! He's not a scout or an outcast! You hear me, Scout? Kevin, answer me!" Everyone was waiting for a reply. I was cuffed and the guards were relaxed. I sprung forward, jumped into the air, and drove my knee into the first guards sternum. He crumbled to the floor, gasping for air. Then I turned and grabbed the other guards hand as he pulled his pistol out at me. I slipped the pistol out of his hand with ease, kicked the young man in the testicles and let him slump to the floor. With both guards subdued, I walked over to the old man, pointed the gun at him, and smiled.

"So he's not a scout or an outcast? Tell me everything you know about Z."

"He's not human." The old man smiled. "A freak. A mutation. An alien. They have many names. I prefer calling them, Angels."

"What?" That made no sense to me.

"In the end, when you can't explain something, you still have to name it. Before the dead walked the earth, the moon had a longer cycle. The World was full of life. And men could not build stone towers in a day. Can you? Can Tank? Z comes from a world beyond our own. Why is he here? We don't know, but months ago… we found him. We tried talking to him. We tried! He would not speak to us. He ignored us and resisted us. He fought us as we tried to move him out of our area. So we killed him."

"Killed him?" I lowered my gun slightly as the thought filled my mind.

"Shot him, in the head. Point blank range." The old man lowered his posture and exhaled. "There was food in his base. Enough to feed everyone for weeks. A stockpile unlike anything we've ever found in this world. Then, a few days later on the outskirts of Zone A14, a scouting team found a man wandering beyond the capital walls. Naked and alone. It was Z, or another man identical to him, but I had no doubt it was him and he was alive… healthy, and gathering supplies. We tried to approach him, again, to talk to him… I led the group who approached him... but you know what happened? He attacked us."

"I don't believe what you're telling me."

"He killed those men, stripped them of their gear and left." The old man rolled up his sleeve. "I survived." He showed me a scar that ran the length of his right forearm. "He did this with a stone axe. Eight men died that day, from a half naked man with a god damned stone axe. His strength is unimaginable. His speed, his thinking… everything was beyond what we understand. We eventually captured him, but we suffered a great deal of losses. He hadn't yet built anything, but he was stockpiling supplies, again. Our best doctors studied him as best they could. We eventually began communicating with pictures. And you know what we found out?" He smiled at me. "He doesn't see the difference between us… and the dead. To him, we are zeds. So we let him go. The doctors say he was simply a crazy man, even though he looks and acted just like the first man we killed, they denied any connection. Snake and his team brought Z deep into Zone A14 and left him. We let him roam and do as he pleases. And now we must harvest the fruit of his spoils."

"That doesn't make any sense…. He see's us as the dead?"

"We are in hell, my child. He is our salvation. Yet the only way to take his luscious fruits is to kill him. Because he won't give it to us!"

"That's not possible." I took a step back from the old man. He glared at me with a wicked gleam.

"We are in the End of times, my dear." He said as his guards began to stand up. "Is it so impossible to believe? The dead walk the Earth. The moon has lost its orbit and turns red every 7 days. Yet you wish to not believe that Z is something beyond our world?"

"This is our world!" I pushed one of the guards back on the ground. "My life has been dedicated to take it back from the dead! What you are saying… you're taking control away from us! From me! The dead are a result of a disease… this isn't some mystical religious bull shit!" To think that something like Z existed… my heart raced in a panic. It had to be a lie. A fairy tale.

"He has come from far away, from lands beyond our reach. We made you so that we can take what he makes as our own. That is our fate, Ghost. Every where he goes, everything he builds, can potentially save us."

"Then why do you want him.. It… dead?" I put the gun to the old man's head.

"The dead exist because of him!" He took a step toward my gun, daring me.

"I'll talk to him!" I gasped, struggling to wrap my brain around what the old man was saying. "I will!"

"Unless Kevin does first." He smiled. "And when he turns to fight Kevin, and Kevin realizes that Z does not understand or care to understand, then Kevin will do as a loyal order following scout has been trained to do. He will kill Z. And we will eat. And Z will be reborn someplace else, and the cycle will most likely continue."


	17. Demons, monsters and

**Demons, monsters and...**

Scout: Ghost  
Days: 58

"So tell me what he is?" I glared at the old man, waiting for him to be straight with me. "Or at least tell me what you honestly think he is."

The old man smiled, "Me personally, I believe him to be a demon that walks the Earth. The creature of torment. His sole purpose is to create food for us… the damned."

The door to the room opened further, I hadn't noticed that it was already open. A figure walked in the shadows "I assumed the demon was you, father."

The old man spat. "Setra, I told you to wait for Tank on the upper floors…"

The figure limped forward, a silhouette in the dark. "You never could tell the difference between she and I. Hard to believe considering how much older she is."

I glared at the figure as she stepped into the light. "Tina!"

Tina walked toward me, wearing light armor and a heavy backpack of gear. Her missing foot was hidden beneath a thick leather boot which was held together by metal rods. "Hi Sarah," she smiled, "sorry I couldn't get back in time to help you."

"Don't apologize." I grinned. "I wasn't expecting you back in the Zone this soon."

The old man fumed. "Where have you been? What are doing back here now? What…"

"Father, you really should watch your blood pressure. Setra told me it wasn't very good. You're getting old, ya know."

"Setra… told you…" He seemed dumbfounded.

Tina smiled. "When you brought her to Navezgane, remember? We had a nice long talk. You were so busy looking for me, you didn't even bother to look right under your nose."

The old man stood up. I quickly pushed him back down. "Sit." He grabbed his shoulder where the butt of my gun hit him. The two guards were standing now, watching, unable to decide what to do. When I hit the old man they seemed to be upset about it, so I turned the gun on them. "Still supporting this old fool?"

Cipher walked in. "Easy now. Guards, you can leave. The old man's time is up. We'll let Tina settle this." The two guards solemnly walked out, obeying the orders of their superior. Cipher looked at us and exhaled exhaustingly. "Tank is on his way back. He got Setra to the infested airfield, just like you ordered Tina. He helped the plane take off and is on his way here."

"Good. Thanks, Cipher. Can always count on Tank to do the impossible."

The old man growled. "What have you done?"

Tina walked next to her father and sat on the floor in front of him. "It's the end of the world for you, why do you care? I'll tell you why. Because you think this is your own battlefield, and us kids are your weapons. Setra is going to the White River…"

"Damn you!" He growled.

"She'll be a valuable asset to saving the world." Tina continued. "Doctors and fighters will give us a chance to survive in this… hell… you created. And as for Z… oh yes, we know about him." She reached out and took the radio from the old man. "You broadcasted, didn't you? Shit!"

Tina stood and examined the radio. "It's dead… Cipher?"

"I'll get another battery!" She ran out of the room and deeper into the base.

Tina turned to her father. "Go on, gloat you old fuck!"

He did. "Everything I said about demons, and not understanding Z. I hope Kevin was listening. He'll be terrified to face that monster for sure."

Tina nodded. "Setra was right about you. You can't see the potential of talking to him. He killed your men, back then. You attacked him, looted him, hunted him down and looted him again. Finally, he beat you. Killed your men and escaped your clutches. You wonder why he won't talk to us. It's because he knows you're hunting him!"

I had to interrupt. "So what is it? He speaks another language, he's not from this land? What's the truth? "

Tina didn't look at me. She kept her eyes on her father. "Z is from another country. He's not from the old America. He can't understand us because he doesn't speak English. My father blames him because he can't die…"

"Explain that!" The old man roared.

"Z is infected." Tina added. "His blood carries the blood of the dead. He can't die. But he can't turn, either. We can't explain why his body won't stay where he dies. Setra couldn't figure that out, but the White River is trying to understand it. But besides that, we're trying to work with him. We'll figure out his language and we'll work with him."

I glared at the old man. "So he doesn't see us as the dead?"

The old man growled. "He does."

"Tina?"

"He does." She repeated. "From what we gather, and from what Setra told us while she was in Navezgane, his mind is so focused on killing the dead, that anyone who approaches him as a threat; everyone is essentially another of the walking dead to his eyes. Setra doesn't think he can even rationally distinguish between humans and the dead any more thanks to my father's endless pursuit of him. However, we believe we have a solution." She walked away from the old man and toward me. I trained my gun on the old fool. "We let him come to us. We let him make the first move, and not us. Setra believes it would be a mental distraction. If we present him with a location that he deems as safe, his fear will not overwhelm his mental focus. We let him walk into a store, and go shopping."

The old man guffed. "She never told me this theory. If it works you should set a trap and kill him!"

I spat. "And Z will awaken someplace else and he'll never trust us."

"Fine! Then I'll do it!" The old man guffed. "Eventually he'll let his guard down and walk into a base I've made. And then… "

"No, you won't." Tina interrupted. "This is why she didn't tell you. She knew you'd only use it to kill him. But I wanted you to know, before I kill you."

"You wouldn't… I'm your father. Thanks to me, you have accomplished more than I ever thought you could." He smiled. "Only a child of mine could be so brilliant that she would overcome the loss of her foot, find a way to the west, find the white River settlement, and figure out Z. My legacy. You're everything I dreamed you could be."

Tina sighed. "You're right. I can't do it." She tapped me on the shoulder as she walked by. Giving me the go ahead.

I pulled the trigger with a lavish sense of enjoyment. I smiled at the blood spray on the back of the wall, as the back of his head exploded. A joy filled wash of goosebumps rose over my body as the old man's dying corpse fell with a thud upon the floor. I had wanted to kill him weeks ago.

Tina didn't stop walking. "We've got a lot to do. Z will need support if Kevin is going after him. But we can't fight with him, he won't see us as allies."

"Tina, you've done enough." I followed her out of the room and into the stairwell walking up. "Besides, you aren't as mobile as you used to be. I'll go after Kevin alone. You need to get back to the White River. Let them know your father is dead. An elder for the Capital is finally dead."

Tina nodded. "They'll be happy to know about that. My father was one of the last military leaders of the Capital from before the red moon. They… we, blame the Capital for the end of the world. But I don't want to let you do this alone. You already took the blame for so much on my behalf…"

"This is why I was made, Tina. Z may not be a real demon, but I am. I was born to kill monsters; living or dead."

Cipher was digging through cabinets when we reached the upper floor. "Got one!" She screamed and tossed me a battery. I caught it and put it into the radio. A guard walked over and uncuffed me. Felt good to finally have full use of my arms.

Cipher walked over to Tina. "What next, ma'am?"

"I've been charged with expanding the White River to Zones A15 and A16. Rekt and Joel… remember them? They're out setting up some shops and drop zones. Even though Tank successfully got my plane off the ground at Airfield #6, without it completely clear this area is too dangerous for a trading post. We need an airfield within a few kilometers for larger supply runs."

"Rekt and Joel?" Cipher wowed. "They've been gone for years. Before either of you were born. They found the white River as well. Good."

"Kevin, do you copy?" I raised the radio higher hoping the problem was my signal, but I was certain the issue was that Kevin wasn't talking. "I need to go. Tina, good luck."

She dived into my arms. "You too. Take Cipher and the guards…"

"No. They'll slow me down. They don't how I work in the field."

"Okay. We'll be in touch. Avoid the Capital, for now. Once they find out about my father, they may retaliate."

Cipher added. "As low as their supplies are, they may get desperate. Be careful, Ghost."

Tank opened the door and entered the room. "Tina?"

I smiled up at him as he began to walk down the short flight of stairs. "It's a long story. I'll take Tank, if that's okay?"

"He's all yours." Tina smiled.

Tank looked at Cipher and the guards, then Tina, and finally back to me. "A lot of happy faces. So I guess someone finally killed the old man?"

I snorted as I walked past him. "Come on. We have to find Z."


	18. the End of Utopia

**the End of Utopia**

Scout: Kevin  
Days: 61

"Eyes on the trap?"

"Negative, Kevin. We're too far out. We should do it now, before he get's to the road."

"This is a god damned fortress. We have to do this?"

"We have orders, and you heard what they said on the radio… he's a monster. We let the dead in, and we clean up the mess when Z is dead."

"But look at all this. I mean… we could be safe here. It's perfect."

"Head out of the clouds, Boss. We have orders. Besides, we can't see too much inside. Could be worthless, but hopefully he has food in there."

"Kevin, think about this. We can simply break in. We don't have to blow a hole in the wall… lure a few of the dead into his tunnels…"

"That's a good idea. He may try to hide in his tunnels. We'll need to lure the dead down there as well."

"And the wall?"

"We blow it up. Like I ordered."

"For fuck's sake, Kevin. You aren't thinking…"

"Ghost killed Rob! Joe and Paul died during the blood moon! I'm not risking our lives for this! If the dead can do the job then the dead will do the job. Z is a monster and everyone who follows him is dead or turning on us."

"But did we ever really trust Ghost?"

"I've never had a problem with her, did you guys? She's a helluva cook, i know that."

"You weren't with us, Malcolm. You didn't see what she did to Rob. She wasn't like this back at the Capital. She was the best of us, but now, I can't trust her. Not after the last few days. Boss and I know..."

"Yeah, she killed Rob in cold blood. But that doesn't explain Snake. He's always been loyal to the Capital… to the scouts. We don't know what happened to him."

"Boss, Malcolm, if you don't feel comfortable doing this, then leave. I'll do it myself."

"We're not leaving you. You're in charge of the mission, but… I just have a bad feeling that this is a huge fucking mistake. We could be blowing up the walls to the garden of Eden for all we know. Someplace safe."

"Have you been living in the same world we have, Boss? There is no such thing as a safe place. You two head back to the tunnel hatch we passed. Grab a few of the dead and let them climb down behind you. Ram and I will blow the wall and we'll all meet inside. Once we're in, time will be critical. I've got enough mines to alert every dead zed for miles."

"Kevin, at least let me check in with the old man… see if he thinks this is a good idea. He may not want Z's base destroyed."

"You heard the transmission, Boss. He's busy with Ghost at the moment. And if she has escapeed she'll come after us. We call in, we're only making it easier for her to team up with Z. No, no radio. Get moving."

"Ram, you've been awful quiet. You okay with this? Be honest, we're alone."

"I've got a daughter at the Capitol, Kevin. If there is food beyond this wall, I don't care how we get to it."

"Exactly. Set the mines."

"Done."

"Take cover. I have a clear shot. Kevin and Malcolm? You see them?"

"Yeah, they have a few of the dead following them. There walking to the hatch. Shit! That's a screamer walking toward us!"

"Screamer? Good! We'll let her call in a horde. Nothing we can't handle. Let's do this… damn! That wall is tough."

"Got the outer layer. Let's get the inner wall now. If we weaken it enough it should crumble. Gotta hurry, that screamer is getting closer. I put a few extra mines down. That's all of them!"

"Take cover! That did it! Damn! She called in a horde… there... in the water! They're coming up! Move inside. Find Boss and Malcolm. Then we'll kill the screamers. Go!"

"Are you… are you seeing this? Kevin?"

"Yeah, Ram. I see it. What the hell is this place?"

"Here comes Malcolm!"

"Kevin! Boss is trapped! He got cornered in the tunnels. I couldn't get to him!"

"Let's go find him…"

"I can't find the hatch I came out of! This garden is like a maze! Fuck!"

"Cut the damn bushes down. Ram, cover our exit!"

"There! The hatch!"

"Boss! Sound off!"

"Gun shots! This way! Boss!"

"It's a maze down here! Which way?"

"I don't remember! Fuck! Boss!"

"Shit! Horde is coming! There! Has to be at least twenty of them. How did that many get down here? Fuck... we have to go! Retreat back to the surface!"

"Ram! We didn't find him. Boss… he's gone!"

"Shit… Kevin, we need to thin this horde. I killed a screamer… two more popped up! We're getting over run! Even if they kill Z, we can't beat them back, not the just three of us!"

"Get to the tower! We'll hold our ground up there. Aim for the screamers."

"Damn… this place is amazing. We shouldn't have done this. We fucked it up, Kevin."

"Not now, Malcolm. Ram, cover the rear… what's that sound?"

"Minibike! Coming across the bridge!"

"Z…"

"He blew up the bridge! He escaped our trap horde and blew up the fucking bridge. Kevin, what do we do?"

"Why would he blow up the bridge?"

"Because he knows someone set a trap for him, Malcolm! Best way to stop them from crossing the bridge."

"Let Z fight the horde on that side, we'll push toward the hole we made. Ram, behind you!"

"Shit! Shit! Get… off…"

"Damn it! We're being pushed back! Ram… let me wrap that…"

"No. Save your gear for you. I'll fight till I can't fight. I'm losing too much blood. Damn it…"

"Take an antibiotic…"

"Won't help… wound is too deep. Damn… I'm really tired. Like, I've never been this tired… guess this is what it's like. Sleep… Kevin, go. Get outta here."

"I'm sorry. I made a mistake."

"Come on, Kevin! Z is pushing through the horde. God damn, he's amazing! We can win! Come on! We can help him!"

"You know we can't fight with him, Malcolm. He'll just as quickly kill us. Two to your left!"

"Got them. Running low on rounds. I'll grab Ram's gear."

"I'll cover you! Fuck, another screamer."

"Ram had a nice supply of rounds! Here."

"Z went underground! Did you see him fight through that horde?"

"I saw bodies dropping around him, that's all I cared to see. He doesn't need us. We need to get out."

"Push toward the hole. We have to fight through!"

"Too many! Too many! Kevin… fuck… fuck….. I can't…"

"Malcolm. Focus on the left! Shit! Back up! Back up! Malcolm! Malcolm! Shit… shit… get off... me!"

# # # # #

Scout: Ghost  
Days: 58

"Kevin, please copy!" Tank drove and I held on to his back as his minibike tore across the countryside. There was no answer. "Damn it, answer me!" I held the radio open and finally heard the answering chirp of someone on the other end.

~"Ghost… I didn't know."

"Kevin…"

~"We blew up a wall to let a horde in. A screamer. We… I thought I could stop them once they killed Z. I didn't know until we were inside. We-the Island… could have lived here."

"You stupid bastards." It was over. Everything Z built was going to be overrun. One screamer. That's all it would take for a horde to appear in overwhelming odds. "Why didn't you kill her first?"

~"I couldn't… there were too many. Then Z came. He fought through the first trap horde we set. But… he didn't have anywhere to retreat too when he got here. He saw the hole in his wall..."

"I know Z. He's fighting. Go help him! There is still a chance to..."

~"My team is dead, I'm out of ammo, wounded, and exhausted. I've been fighting them just enough to stay alive, but there's too many. Z... he's unstoppable. He's…" A flash of light filled the sky. A mushroom cloud of fire swelled upward from the location of Z's Island. A thunderous roar then echoed across the land as if the planet screamed in protest.

"A fire from the old world." Tank said. I touched Tank's hand and motioned for him to stop the minibike. We did.

"Kevin." I held the radio open hoping for a reply, but knowing there wouldn't be none. Only static filled the line. The wind from the explosion brushed across my face. It was hot, and chilling at the same time. Tank sat beside me as we watched the cloud rise higher and higher.

"Tina would have cleared everyone out of the bunker. Anyone there now won't be on the White River's side." Tank said. "We can't go back. Everyone will know that you killed an Elder. And Z is certainly dead. What now?"

I put my arms around Tank. "Just drive. As far as we can go. We'll have to head toward Zone A15. Catch up to Tina and the group." I held on as Tank sped toward the north, away from Z's burning island. "Where will Z appear next?"

"If what you told me is true, Setra's plan may work. I just can't believe he'll awaken from that. What kind of man survives repeated deaths?"

"An Angel… in a world amongst demons and monsters." We drove for days. Stopping to loot unchecked gas stations, empty homes, and to rest. Most of the areas we searched were untouched by scouts, and that's when it dawned on me that we were well beyond the Capital and Zone A14. "Do you miss Setra?"

"Yeah." Tank sighed loudly while we ate on the roof of a gas station on the edge of a dense forest. "If we ever find Tina, I may head to Navezgane. I think It's time I found a more peaceful job. Getting old, ya know."

"You don't think Setra will move on without you?"

"No." He smiled. "We've been chasing each other for ten years. I don't think a few weeks of separation will change her, or me."

We ate silently for a few minutes as the midday sun hung warm overhead. I turned to Tank and said, "I wish I could have stopped this. I wish I could have done things differently. Z's Island could have changed everything. I wish you could have seen the inside of it." I chugged a jar of water and checked my gear. I missed my sniper rifle. "I wish I could have seen the surface of it; I only saw the tunnels."

"He'll turn up again." Tank said with an easy charm. "He'll build something better and hopefully we'll be able to communicate with him. We should get going…"

~"Ghost…"

My radio popped softly. I unclipped it from my back pack. "Copy. Tina?"

~"Finally! Hey girl!" She laughed on the line. "I've been trying to reach you for days!"

"We must be close. How are you?"

~"We're locked down in a town northwest of a city. We're building up the airport and flying in supplies. Dog day is coming up, are you going to be okay?"

"I've got Tank."

~"Okay. Fuck it, we're all coming to yo!." We laughed on the line. "Good to know you're still with him."

"Can you send us a marker so we can find you?"

~"It'll be easier to find the city, and then go Northwest. You must be in the zone if the Radio is reaching you."

"We'll find it." Tank said over my shoulder. "We're on a road, and there are some dusty street signs. We'll be there as soon as we can."

~"Good. However, I have one request. When you reach the city, it'll make things go a lot smoother if the two of you can help thin the numbers. We'll need to get supplies before we finish rebuilding the airport. I figure Tank and Ghost could handle that easy enough."

"Sounds easy enough." I smiled.

~ "I'm sorry to nominate you two like this. But everyone here is building and monitoring the perimeter for dogs. You're the best scouts at our disposal."

"Don't apologize, Tina. You're in command, and I couldn't ask for a better leader."

~"Did you find Kevin's team and Z?"

"No. And Utopia is lost. Overrun and destroyed."

~"l'll alert the White River to keep an eye out for Z. He'll show up somewhere. With my father dead we shouldn't have any opposition. Oh… hold on… Just got a report of heavily armored scouts in the area. They're unusually aggressive. Not sure if they are from the Capital."

Tank grunted. "There are no scouts this far away from Zone 14. Unless the Capital extended their reach."

~"Cipher's here, and she agrees with you. She believes they may be rogue survivors. They're tough, so approach with caution or avoid. I leave it to your discretion. I've got work to do, check in if you need me. Tina… I mean, the White River out."

"Well now." I smiled. "Things are starting to look up. More monsters to kill."

"I don't like the way you said that." Tank shook his head and walked toward the ladder leading off the roof. "Come on, Killer. Let's find you a better gun."

"Thanks, dad!" I cheered.

 **The End  
# # # # #**

 _First and foremost, I would like to thank ZNationFFS for the opportunity to write about the world he made within 7 Days to Die. To dszombieq for encouraging the writing of this story, and to the funPimps for the creation of this amazing game._

 _To all the readers, thank you for your support, reviews and encouragement. It's been a long time since I've done a fanfic, and this was a reminder of how fun they can be... with a good subject._

 _Thanks again for reading!_  
 _~Soul_


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